THE  YALE 
SHAKESPEARE 


OTHELLO 
THE  MOOR 
OF  VENICE 


Edited  by 

Lawrence  Mason 


Yale  University 
Press 


DUKE 

UNIVERSITY 


LIBRARY 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 
in  2017  with  funding  from 
Duke  University  Libraries 


https://archive.org/details/tragedyofothello02shak 


THE  YALE  SHAKESPEARE 


Edited  by 

Wilbur  L.  Cross  Tucker  Brooke 

Willard  Higley  Durham 


Published  under  the  Direction 
of  the 

Department  of  English,  Yale  University 
on  the  Fund 

Given  to  the  Yale  University  Press  in  1917 
by  the  Members  of  the 
Kingsley  Trust  Association 
To  Commemorate  the  Seventy-Fifth  Anniversary 
of  the  Founding  of  the  Society 


• ! 77he  7 ale  Shakespeare  \ • 


THE  TRAGEDY  OF  OTHELLO 

THE  MOOR  OF  VENICE 

EDITED  BY 

LAWRENCE  MASON 


NEW  HAVEN  • YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 
LONDON  • HUMPHREY  MILFORD 
OXFORD  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 


Copyright,  1918 
By  Yale  University  Press 
Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


First  published,  January,  1918 
Second  printing,  October,  1920 
Third  printing,  August,  1925 
Fourth  printing,  October,  1929 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


Page 

The  Text 

. 

1 

Notes 

. 

132 

Appendix  A. 

Sources  of  the  Play 

144 

Appendix  B. 

The  History  of  the  Play 

150 

Appendix  C. 

The  Text  of  the  Present  Edi- 

tion .... 

156 

Appendix  D. 

Suggestions  for  Collateral  Read- 

ing .... 

158 

Index  of  Words  Glossed  .... 

160 

The  facsimile  opposite  represents  the  title-page  of 
the  Elizabethan  Club  copy  of  the  first  quarto  edition. 
Thirteen  copies  of  this  edition  are  known  to  survive. 


THE 

Tragoedy  of  Othello, 

The  Moore  of  Venice. 


<i£s  it  hath  heene  diuerfe  times  acted  at  the 
Globe , and  at  the  Black-Friers , by 

hit  Maiejlies  Serums. 

Written  by  William  Shakefpeare. 


LONDON , 

Printed  by  N.  0.  for  Thomas  v/alkley.^ nd  are  to  be  fold  at  bis 
ihop,  at  the  Eagle  and  Child,  in  Brittans  Burfle. 

16  22, 


[DRAMATIS  PERSONvE.] 


Othello,  the  Moor 
Brabantio,  Father  to  Desdemona 
Cassio,  an  honourable  Lieutenant 
Iago,  a villain  [Ancient  to  Othello ] 

Roderigo,  a gulled  gentleman 
Duke  of  Venice 
Senators. 

Montano,  Governor  of  Cyprus  [before  Othello ] 
Gentlemen  of  Cyprus 

Lodovico  and  ) two  noble  Venetians  [kinsman  and 
Gratiano  ) brother,  respectively,  to  Brabantio ] 
Sailors 

Clown,  [in  Othello’s  retinue ] 

Desdemona,  wife  to  Othello  [and  daughter  to 
Brabantio ] 

Emilia,  wife  to  lago  [and  maid-in-waiting  to  Desde- 
mona ] 

Bianca,  a courtesan  [in  love  with  Cassio ] 

[Messenger,  Herald,  Officers,  Musicians,  and 
Attendants] 

[Scene:  Act  I,  at  Venice ; Acts  II-V,  at  a sea-port 
in  Cyprus .] 


The  Tragedy  of 
Othello,  the  Moor  of  Venice 


ACT  FIRST 

Scene  One 
[Venice.  A Street ] 

Enter  Roderigo  and  Iago. 

Rod.  Tush!  Never  tell  me;  I take  it  much  un- 
kindly 

That  thou,  Iago,  who  hast  had  my  purse 

As  if  the  strings  were  thine,  shouldst  know  of  this. 

Iago.  ’Sblood,  but  you  will  not  hear  me:  4 

If  ever  I did  dream  of  such  a matter. 

Abhor  me. 

Rod.  Thou  told’st  me  thou  didst  hold  him  in  thy 
hate. 

Iago.  Despise  me  if  I do  not.  Three  great  ones 
of  the  city,  8 

In  personal  suit  to  make  me  his  lieutenant, 

Off-capp’d  to  him ; and,  by  the  faith  of  man, 

I know  my  price,  I am  worth  no  worse  a place ; 

But  he,  as  loving  his  own  pride  and  purposes,  12 
Evades  them,  with  a bombast  circumstance 
Horribly  stuff’d  with  epithets  of  war; 

And,  in  conclusion, 

Nonsuits  my  mediators ; for,  ‘Certes,’  says  he,  16 

‘I  have  already  chose  my  officer.’ 

4 ’Sblood;  cf.  n.  10  Off-capp’d:  doffed  their  caps 

13  bombast  circumstance:  inflated  circumlocution ; cf.  n. 

16  Nonsuits:  rebuffs  Certes:  certainly 


2 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


And  what  was  he  ? 

Forsooth,  a great  arithmetician. 

One  Michael  Cassio,  a Florentine,  20 

A fellow  almost  damn’d  in  a fair  wife; 

That  never  set  a squadron  in  the  field. 

Nor  the  division  of  a battle  knows 
More  than  a spinster;  unless  the  bookish  theoric, 
Wherein  the  toged  consuls  can  propose  25 

As  masterly  as  he:  mere  prattle,  without  practice, 

Is  all  his  soldiership.  But  he,  sir,  had  the  election; 
And  I — of  whom  his  eyes  had  seen  the  proof  28 
At  Rhodes,  at  Cyprus,  and  on  other  grounds 
Christian  and  heathen— must  be  be-lee’d  and  calm’d 
By  debitor  and  creditor;  this  counter-caster, 

He,  in  good  time,  must  his  lieutenant  be,  32 

And  I — God  bless  the  mark  ! — his  Moorship’s  ancient. 
Rod.  By  heaven,  I rather  would  have  been  his 
hangman. 

I ago.  Why,  there’s  no  remedy:  ’tis  the  curse  of 
service, 

Preferment  goes  by  letter  and  affection,  30 

Not  by  the  old  gradation,  where  each  second 
Stood  heir  to  the  first.  Now,  sir,  be  judge  yourself, 
Whether  I in  any  just  term  am  affin’d 
To  love  the  Moor. 

Rod.  I would  not  follow  him  then.  40 

I ago.  O ! sir,  content  you ; 


19  Cf.  n.  on  line  31  _ 21  Cf.  n. 

23  division  . . . battle:  section  of  a battalion,  or  disposition  of  a 
battle-line 

24  unless:  except,  unless  you  count  bookish  theoric:  book-taught 

theory 

25  toged  consuls:  councillors  in  their  togas  or  robes  of  peace  pro- 

pose: converse,  discourse 

30  be-lee’d  and  calm’d;  cf.  n.  31  Cf.  n. 

32  in  good  time:  ( phrase  of  contempt)  forsooth 

33  God  . . . mark;  cf.n.  ancient:  ensign;  cf.  n. 

36  letter : commendatory  letter,  favor  39  in  any  . . . affin’d;  cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice , I.  i 


3 


I follow  him  to  serve  my  turn  upon  him; 

We  cannot  all  be  masters,  nor  all  masters 

Cannot  be  truly  follow’d.  You  shall  mark  44 

Many  a duteous  and  knee-crooking  knave. 

That,  doting  on  his  own  obsequious  bondage. 

Wears  out  his  time,  much  like  his  master’s  ass. 

For  nought  but  provender,  and  when  he’s  old, 
cashier’d;  48 

Whip  me  such  honest  knaves.  Others  there  are 
Who,  trimm’d  in  forms  and  visages  of  duty. 

Keep  yet  their  hearts  attending  on  themselves, 

And,  throwing  but  shows  of  service  on  their  lords,  52 
Do  well  thrive  by  them,  and  when  they  have  lin’d 
their  coats 

Do  themselves  homage : these  fellows  have  some  soul ; 
And  such  a one  do  I profess  myself.  For,  sir, 

It  is  as  sure  as  you  are  Roderigo,  66 

Were  I the  Moor,  I would  not  be  Iago: 

Id  following  him,  I follow  but  myself ; 

Heaven  is  my  judge,  not  I for  love  and  duty. 

But  seeming  so,  for  my  peculiar  end:  60 

For  when  my  outward  action  doth  demonstrate 

The  native  act  and  figure  of  my  heart 

In  complement  extern,  ’tis  not  long  after 

But  I will  wear  my  heart  upon  my  sleeve  64 

For  daws  to  peck  at:  I am  not  what  I am. 

Rod.  What  a full  fortune  does  the  thick-lips  owe. 
If  he  can  carry  ’t  thus  ! 

Iago.  Call  up  her  father;  67 

Rouse  him,  make  after  him,  poison  his  delight, 

50  visages:  outward  semblances 
53  lin’d  their  coats:  filled  their  pockets 
60  peculiar:  own  particular,  private 

62  act:  action,  operation  figure:  configuration 

63  complement:  counterpart  (?);  cf.  n. 


66  owe:  own 


4 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


Proclaim  him  in  the  streets,  incense  her  kinsmen, 
And,  though  he  in  a fertile  climate  dwell, 

Plague  him  with  flies;  though  that  his  joy  be  joy. 
Yet  throw  such  chances  of  vexation  on ’t  72 

As  it  may  lose  some  colour. 

Rod.  Here  is  her  father’s  house;  I’ll  call  aloud. 
Iago.  Do;  with  like  timorous  accent  and  dire  yell 
As  when,  by  night  and  negligence,  the  fire  76 

Is  spied  in  populous  cities. 

Rod.  What,  ho!  Brabantio ! Signior  Brabantio,  ho! 
Iago.  Awake ! what,  ho ! Brabantio ! thieves ! 
thieves ! thieves ! 

Look  to  your  house,  your  daughter,  and  your 
bags ! 80 

Thieves ! thieves ! 

Brabantio  [ appears ] above  at  a window. 

Bra.  What  is  the  reason  of  this  terrible  summons? 
What  is  the  matter  there? 

Rod.  Signior,  is  all  your  family  within?  84 

Iago.  Are  your  doors  lock’d? 

Bra.  Why?  wherefore  ask  you  this? 

Iago.  ’Zounds!  sir,  you’re  robb’d;  for  shame,  put 
on  your  gown ; 

Your  heart  is  burst,  you  have  lost  half  your  soul; 
Even  now,  now,  very  now,  an  old  black  ram  88 

Is  tupping  your  white  ewe.  Arise,  arise! 

Awake  the  snorting  citizens  with  the  bell. 

Or  else  the  devil  will  make  a grandsire  of  you. 

Arise,  I say. 

Bra.  What!  have  you  lost  your  wits?  92 

Rod.  Most  reverend  signior,  do  you  know  my 
voice  ? 


86  ’Zounds;  cf.  n.  on  line  4 


90  snorting:  snoring 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  I.  i 


5 


Bra.  Not  I,  what  are  you? 

Rod.  My  name  is  Roderigo. 

Bra.  The  worser  welcome: 

I have  charg’d  thee  not  to  haunt  about  my  doors : 96 

In  honest  plainness  thou  hast  heard  me  say 
My  daughter  is  not  for  thee;  and  now,  in  madness. 
Being  full  of  supper  and  distempering  draughts. 
Upon  malicious  knavery  dost  thou  come  100 

To  start  my  quiet. 

Rod.  Sir,  sir,  sir ! 

Bra.  But  thou  must  needs  be  sure 

My  spirit  and  my  place  have  in  them  power 
To  make  this  bitter  to  thee. 

Rod.  Patience,  good  sir.  104 

Bra.  What  tell’st  thou  me  of  robbing?  this  is 
Venice; 

My  house  is  not  a grange. 

Rod.  Most  grave  Brabantio, 

In  simple  and  pure  soul  I come  to  you.  107 

Iago.  ’Zounds ! sir,  you  are  one  of  those  that 
will  not  serve  God  if  the  devil  bid  you.  Because 
we  come  to  do  you  service  and  you  think  we  are 
ruffians,  you’ll  have  your  daughter  covered  with 
a Barbary  horse;  you’ll  have  your  nephews  neigh 
to  you;  you’ll  have  coursers  for  cousins  and 
gennets  for  germans.  114 

Bra.  WThat  profane  wretch  art  thou? 

Iago.  I am  one,  sir,  that  comes  to  tell  you, 
your  daughter  and  the  Moor  are  now  making 
the  beast  with  two  backs. 

101  star t:  disturb  106  grange:  lonely  farmhouse 

112  Barbary:  a country  on  the  north  coast  of  Africa  nephews:  any 

lineal  descendants 

113  coursers:  swift  and  spirited  horses 

114  gennets:  small  Spanish  horses  germans:  near  relatives 


6 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Bra.  Thou  art  a villain. 

I ago.  You  are — a senator. 

Bra.  This  thou  shalt  answer;  I know  thee, 
Roderigo.  120 

Rod.  Sir,  I will  answer  any  thing.  But,  I beseech 
you, 

If ’t  be  your  pleasure  and  most  wise  consent, — 

As  partly,  I find,  it  is, — that  your  fair  daughter. 

At  this  odd-even  and  dull  watch  o’  the  night, 
Transported  with  no  worse  nor  better  guard 
But  with  a knave  of  common  hire,  a gondolier. 

To  the  gross  clasps  of  a lascivious  Moor, — 

If  this  be  known  to  you,  and  your  allowance, 

We  then  have  done  you  bold  and  saucy  wrongs ; 

But  if  you  know  not  this,  my  manners  tell  me 
We  have  your  wrong  rebuke.  Do  not  believe 
That,  from  the  sense  of  all  civility, 

I thus  would  play  and  trifle  with  your  reverence: 
Your  daughter,  if  you  have  not  given  her  leave, 

I say  again,  hath  made  a gross  revolt; 

Tying  her  duty,  beauty,  wit  and  fortunes 
In  an  extravagant  and  wheeling  stranger 
Of  here  and  everywhere.  Straight  satisfy  yourself: 
If  she  be  in  her  chamber  or  your  house, 

Let  loose  on  me  the  justice  of  the  state  140 

For  thus  deluding  you. 

Bra.  Strike  on  the  tinder,  ho! 

Give  me  a taper ! call  up  all  my  people ! 

This  accident  is  not  unlike  my  dream; 

Belief  of  it  oppresses  me  already.  144 

Light,  I say ! light ! Exit. 


124 


127 


132 


136 


124  Cf.n.  128  your  allowance:  what  you  approve  of 

132  from  . . . all:  deprived  of  all  regard  for 

137  extravagant  and  wheeling:  vagabond  and  itinerant;  cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice , I.  i 


7 


Iago.  Farewell,  for  I must  leave  you: 

It  seems  not  meet  nor  wholesome  to  my  place 
To  be  produc’d,  as,  if  I stay,  I shall. 

Against  the  Moor;  for,  I do  know  the  state,  148 

However  this  may  gall  him  with  some  check. 

Cannot  with  safety  cast  him;  for  he’s  embark’d 
With  such  loud  reason  to  the  Cyprus  wars, — 

Which  even  now  stand  in  act, — that,  for  their 
souls,  152 

Another  of  his  fathom  they  have  none, 

To  lead  their  business;  in  which  regard. 

Though  I do  hate  him  as  I do  hell-pains. 

Yet,  for  necessity  of  present  life,  156 

I must  show  out  a flag  and  sign  of  love, 

Which  is  indeed  but  sign.  That  you  shall  surely  find 
him, 

Lead  to  the  Sagittary  the  raised  search; 

And  there  will  I be  with  him.  So,  farewell.  160 

Exit. 

Enter  [below, ~\  Brabantio,  with  Servants  and  torches. 

Bra.  It  is  too  true  an  evil:  gone  she  is, 

And  what’s  to  come  of  my  despised  time 
Is  nought  but  bitterness.  Now,  Roderigo, 

Where  didst  thou  see  her  ? O,  unhappy  girl ! 

With  the  Moor,  sayst  thou?  Who  would  be  a 
father ! 165 

How  didst  thou  know  ’twas  she?  O,  she  deceives  me 
Past  thought.  What  said  she  to  you?  Get  more 
tapers ! 

147  produc’d:  brought  forward  as  witness  149  check:  rebuke 

150  cast:  dismiss  embark’d:  engaged,  committed 

151  loud  reason:  pressing  necessity  Cyprus  wars;  cf.  n. 

152  stand  in  act:  are  actually  under  way  153  fathom:  capacity 

159  Sagittary : an  inn  160  S.  d.  torches:  torch-bearers 

162  what’s  . . . time:  the  remainder  of  my  wretched  life 


8 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


Raise  all  my  kindred ! Are  they  married,  think 
you  ? 168 

Rod.  Truly,  I think  they  are. 

Bra.  O heaven!  How  got  she  out?  O,  treason  of 
the  blood: 

Fathers,  from  hence  trust  not  your  daughters’  minds 
By  what  you  see  them  act.  Are  there  not  charms 
By  which  the  property  of  youth  and  maidhood 
May  be  abus’d?  Have  you  not  read,  Roderigo, 

Of  some  such  thing? 

Rod.  Yes,  sir,  I have  indeed. 

Bra.  Call  up  my  brother.  O!  that  you  had  had 
her.  176 

Some  one  way,  some  another ! Do  you  know 
Where  we  may  apprehend  her  and  the  Moor? 

Rod.  I think  I can  discover  him,  if  you  please 
To  get  good  guard  and  go  along  with  me.  180 

Bra.  Pray  you,  lead  on.  At  every  house  I’ll  call; 
I may  command  at  most.  Get  weapons,  ho ! 

And  raise  some  special  officers  of  night. 

On,  good  Roderigo;  I’ll  deserve  your  pains.  184 

Exeunt. 

Scene  Two 
[ Another  Street ] 

Enter  Othello,  Iago,  and  Attendants,  with  torches. 

Iago.  Though  in  the  trade  of  war  I have  slain  men. 
Yet  do  I hold  it  very  stuff  o’  the  conscience 
To  do  no  contriv’d  murder:  I lack  iniquity 
Sometimes  to  do  me  service.  Nine  or  ten  times  4 
I had  thought  to  have  yerk’d  him  here  under  the  ribs. 


173  property:  nature 
3 contriv’d:  premeditated 


2 stuff : substance,  essence 
5 yerk’d:  struck  ( with  dagger) 


The  Moor  of  Venice , I . ii 


9 


Oth.  ’Tis  better  as  it  is, 
Iago. 


Nay,  but  he  prated, 


And  spoke  such  scurvy  and  provoking  terms 

Against  your  honour 

That,  with  the  little  godliness  I have, 

I did  full  hard  forbear  him.  But,  I pray,  sir. 

Are  you  fast  married?  Be  assur’d  of  this. 

That  the  magnifico  is  much  belov’d. 

And  hath  in  his  effect  a voice  potential 
As  double  as  the  duke’s ; he  will  divorce  you. 

Or  put  upon  you  what  restraint  and  grievance 
The  law — with  all  his  might  to  enforce  it  on — 
Will  give  him  cable. 

Oth.  Let  him  do  his  spite: 

My  services  which  I have  done  the  signiory 
Shall  out-tongue  his  complaints.  ’Tis  yet 
know. 

Which  when  I know  that  boasting  is  an  honour 
I shall  promulgate,  I fetch  my  life  and  being 
From  men  of  royal  siege,  and  my  demerits 
May  speak  unbonneted  to  as  proud  a fortune 
As  this  that  I have  reach’d;  for  know,  Iago, 

But  that  I love  the  gentle  Desdemona, 

I would  not  my  unhoused  free  condition 

Put  into  circumscription  and  confine 

For  the  sea’s  worth.  But,  look!  what  lights  c 


ts  come 
28 

friends : 


Iago.  Those  are  the  raised  father  and  his 
You  were  best  go  in. 


8 


12 


16 


Oth. 


12  magnifico:  title  of  Venetian  nobles 
17  give  . . . cable:  permit 
22  siege:  rank  demerits:  deserts 
26  unhoused:  cf.  n. 


13,  14  Cf.  n. 
18  signiory:  governing  body 
23  Cf.  n. 
27  confine:  confinement 


10 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


My  parts,  my  title,  and  my  perfect  soul 
Shall  manifest  me  rightly.  Is  it  they?  32 

I ago.  By  Janus,  I think  no. 

Enter  Cassio,  with  Officers,  and  torches. 

Oth.  The  servants  of  the  duke,  and  my  lieutenant. 
The  goodness  of  the  night  upon  you,  friends ! 

What  is  the  news? 

Cas.  The  duke  does  greet  you,  general,  36 

And  he  requires  your  haste-post-haste  appearance. 
Even  on  the  instant. 

Oth.  What  is  the  matter,  think  you? 

Cas.  Something  from  Cyprus,  as  I may  divine. 

It  is  a business  of  some  heat ; the  galleys  40 

Have  sent  a dozen  sequent  messengers 
This  very  night  at  one  another’s  heels, 

And  many  of  the  consuls,  rais’d  and  met, 

Are  at  the  duke’s  already.  You  have  been  hotly  call’d 
for;  44 

When,  being  not  at  your  lodging  to  be  found, 

The  senate  hath  sent  about  three  several  quests 
To  search  you  out. 

C Oth.  ’Tis  well  I am  found  by  you. 

I will  but  spend  a word  here  in  the  house,  48 

And  go  with  you.  [Exit.'] 

Cas.  Ancient,  what  makes  he  here? 

I ago.  Faith,  he  to-night  hath  boarded  a land 
carrack; 

If  it  prove  lawful  prize,  he’s  made  for  ever. 

Cas.  I do  not  understand. 

Iago.  He’s  married. 

Cas.  To  who?  52 


33  Janus:  two-faced  Roman  god  of  beginnings  40  heat:  urgency 

41  sequent:  successive 

43  consuls:  senators  SO  carrack:  large  merchant  vessel 


The  Moor  of  Venice , I.  ii 


11 


Iago.  Marry,  to — 

[Enter  Othello .] 

Come,  captain,  will  you  go? 
Oth.  Have  with  you. 

Cas.  Here  comes  another  troop  to  seek  for  you. 
Iago.  It  is  Brabantio.  General,  be  advis’d; 

He  comes  to  bad  intent. 

Enter  Brabantio,  Roderigo,  with  Officers,  and  torches. 

Oth.  Holla ! stand  there ! 56 

Rod.  Signior,  it  is  the  Moor. 

Bra.  Down  with  him,  thief! 

[ They  draw  on  both  sides .] 
Iago.  You,  Roderigo!  come,  sir,  I am  for  you. 

Oth.  Keep  up  your  bright  swords,  for  the  dew  will 
rust  them. 

Good  signior,  you  shall  more  command  with  years  60 
Than  with  your  weapons. 

Bra.  O thou  foul  thief!  where  hast  thou  stow’d  my 
daughter  ? 

Damn’d  as  thou  art,  thou  hast  enchanted  her; 

For  I’ll  refer  me  to  all  things  of  sense,  64 

If  she  in  chains  of  magic  were  not  bound. 

Whether  a maid  so  tender,  fair,  and  happy. 

So  opposite  to  marriage  that  she  shunn’d 

The  wealthy  curled  darlings  of  our  nation,  68 

Would  ever  have,  to  incur  a general  mock. 

Run  from  her  guardage  to  the  sooty  bosom 
Of  such  a thing  as  thou ; jo  fear,  not  to  delight. 

Judge  me  the  world,  if  ’tis  not  gross  in  sense  72 

That  thou  hast  practis’d  on  her  with  foul  charms, 

59  Keep  up:  keep  sheathed,  put  up  64  of  sense:  capable  of  judgment 
70  guardage:  guardian's  shelter 

72  Judge  . . . world:  let  the  world  judge  gross  in  sense:  manifest 
to  the  reason 


12 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello , 


Abus’d  her  delicate  youth  with  drugs  or  minerals 
That  weaken  motion:  I’ll  have ’t  disputed  on; 

’Tis  probable,  and  palpable  to  thinking.  76 

I therefore  apprehend  and  do  attach  thee 
For  an  abuser  of  the  world,  a practiser 
Of  arts  inhibited  and  out  of  warrant. 

Lay  hold  upon  him : if  he  do  resist,  80 

Subdue  him  at  his  peril. 

Oth.  Hold  your  hands. 

Both  you  of  my  inclining,  and  the  rest: 

Were  it  my  cue  to  fight,  I should  have  known  it 
Without  a prompter.  Where  will  you  that  I go 
To  answer  this  your  charge? 

Bra.  To  prison;  till  fit  time  85 

Of  law  and  course  of  direct  session 
Call  thee  to  answer. 

Oth.  What  if  I do  obey? 

How  may  the  duke  be  therewith  satisfied,  88 

Whose  messengers  are  here  about  my  side. 

Upon  some  present  business  of  the  state 
To  bring  me  to  him? 

Off.  ’Tis  true,  most  worthy  signior; 

The  duke’s  in  council,  and  your  noble  self,  92 

I am  sure,  is  sent  for. 

Bra.  How!  the  duke  in  council! 

In  this  time  of  the  night!  Bring  him  away. 

Mine’s  not  an  idle  cause:  the  duke  himself, 

Or  any  of  my  brothers  of  the  state,  96 

Cannot  but  feel  this  wrong  as  ’twere  their  own; 

For  if  such  actions  may  have  passage  free, 
Bond-slaves  and  pagans  shall  our  statesmen  be. 

Exeunt. 


75  motion:  self-control  (?)  ; cf.  n.  79  out  of  warrant:  unwarranted 
86  course  . . . session:  due  order  of  special  procedure  98,99  Cf.n. 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  I.  Hi 


13 


Scene  Three 
[A  Council  Chamber ] 

Enter  Duke,  and  Senators  set  at  a table,  with  lights 
and  attendants. 

Duke.  There  is  no  composition  in  these  news 
That  gives  them  credit. 

First  Sen.  Indeed,  they  are  disproportion^ ; 

My  letters  say  a hundred  and  seven  galleys. 

Duke.  And  mine,  a hundred  forty. 

Sec.  Sen.  And  mine,  two  hundred:  4 

But  though  they  jump  not  on  a just  account, — 

As  in  these  cases,  where  the  aim  reports, 

’Tis  oft  with  difference, — yet  do  they  all  confirm 
A Turkish  fleet,  and  bearing  up  to  Cyprus.  8 

Duke.  Nay,  it  is  possible  enough  to  judgment: 

I do  not  so  secure  me  in  the  error. 

But  the  main  article  I do  approve 
In  fearful  sense. 

Sailor  within.  What,  ho ! what,  ho ! what,  ho ! 12 

Off.  A messenger  from  the  galleys. 

Enter  Sailor. 

Duke.  Now,  what’s  the  business? 

Sail.  The  Turkish  preparation  makes  for  Rhodes; 
So  was  I bid  report  here  to  the  state 
By  Signior  Angelo.  16 

Duke.  How  say  you  by  this  change? 

First  Sen.  This  cannot  be, 

By  no  assay  of  reason;  ’tis  a pageant 

Scene  Three  S.  d.  Enter  . . . attendants;  cf.  n. 

1 composition:  consistency  5 jump:  agree  just:  exact 

6 aim:  conjecture,  rough  estimate  10-12  Cf.  n. 

18  assay  of  reason:  reasonable  test  pageant:  pretense 


14 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


To  keep  us  in  false  gaze.  When  we  consider 
The  importancy  of  Cyprus  to  the  Turk,  20 

And  let  ourselves  again  but  understand, 

That  as  it  more  concerns  the  Turk  than  Rhodes, 

So  may  he  with  more  facile  question  bear  it, 

For  that  it  stands  not  in  such  warlike  brace,  24 

But  altogether  lacks  the  abilities 

That  Rhodes  is  dress’d  in : if  we  make  thought  of  this, 

We  must  not  think  the  Turk  is  so  unskilful 

To  leave  that  latest  which  concerns  him  first,  28 

Neglecting  an  attempt  of  ease  and  gain. 

To  wake  and  wage  a danger  profitless. 

DuJce.  Nay,  in  all  confidence,  he’s  not  for  Rhodes. 

Off.  Here  is  more  news.  32 

Enter  a Messenger. 

Mess.  The  Ottomites,  reverend  and  gracious. 
Steering  with  due  course  toward  the  isle  of  Rhodes, 
Have  there  injointed  them  with  an  after  fleet. 

First  Sen.  Ay,  so  I thought.  How  many,  as  you 
guess  ? 36 

Mess.  Of  thirty  sail;  and  now  they  do  re-stem 
Their  backward  course,  bearing  with  frank  appear- 
ance 

Their  purposes  toward  Cyprus.  Signior  Montano, 
Your  trusty  and  most  valiant  servitor,  40 

With  his  free  duty  recommends  you  thus, 

And  prays  you  to  believe  him. 

Duke.  ’Tis  certain  then,  for  Cyprus. 

Marcus  Luccicos,  is  not  he  in  town?  44 

First  Sen.  He’s  now  in  Florence. 


19  in  false  gaze:  looking  in  the  wrong  direction 

23  with  . . . it:  carry  it  with  less  effort  24  brace:  readiness 

35  after : additional,  reserve  41  recommends:  informs 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  I.  in 


15 


Duke.  Write  from  us  to  him;  post-post-haste  dis- 
patch. 

First  Sen.  Here  comes  Brabantio  and  the  valiant 
Moor. 

Enter  Brabantio,  Othello,  Cassio,  Iago,  Roderigo, 
and  Officers. 

Duke.  Valiant  Othello,  we  must  straight  employ 
you  48 

Against  the  general  enemy  Ottoman. 

[To  Brabantio.]  I did  not  see  you;  welcome,  gentle 
signior ; 

We  lack’d  your  counsel  and  your  help  to-night. 

Bra.  So  did  I yours.  Good  your  grace,  pardon 
me ; 52 

Neither  my  place  nor  aught  I heard  of  business 
Hath  rais’d  me  from  my  bed,  nor  doth  the  general 
care 

Take  hold  of  me,  for  my  particular  grief 
Is  of  so  flood-gate  and  o’erbearing  nature  56 

That  it  engluts  and  swallows  other  sorrows 
And  it  is  still  itself. 

Duke.  Why,  what’s  the  matter? 

Bra.  My  daughter!  O!  my  daughter. 

Sen.  Dead? 

Bra.  Ay,  to  me; 

She  is  abus’d,  stol’n  from  me,  and  corrupted  60 

By  spells  and  medicines  bought  of  mountebanks ; 
For  nature  so  preposterously  to  err. 

Being  not  deficient,  blind,  or  lame  of  sense. 

Sans  witchcraft  could  not.  64 

Duke.  Whoe’er  he  be  that  in  this  foul  proceeding 


56  flood-gate:  torrential 

61  mountebanks:  itinerant  vendors  of  nostrums 


64  Sans:  without 


16 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


Hath  thus  beguil’d  your  daughter  of  herself 

And  you  of  her,  the  bloody  book  of  law 

You  shall  yourself  read  in  the  bitter  letter  68 

After  your  own  sense;  yea,  though  our  proper  son 

Stood  in  your  action. 

Bra.  Humbly  I thank  your  Grace. 

Here  is  the  man,  this  Moor;  whom  now,  it  seems, 
Your  special  mandate  for  the  state  affairs,  72 

Hath  hither  brought. 

All.  We  are  very  sorry  for  it. 

Duke.  [To  Othello.]  What,  in  your  own  part,  can 
you  say  to  this  ? 

Bra.  Nothing,  but  this  is  so. 

Oth.  Most  potent,  grave,  and  reverend  signiors,  76 
My  very  noble  and  approv’d  good  masters, 

That  I have  ta’en  away  this  old  man’s  daughter. 

It  is  most  true;  true,  I have  married  her: 

The  very  head  and  front  of  my  offending  80 

Hath  this  extent,  no  more.  Rude  am  I in  my  speech, 
And  little  bless’d  with  the  soft  phrase  of  peace; 

For  since  these  arms  of  mine  had  seven  years’  pith, 
Till  now  some  nine  moons  wasted,  they  have  us’d 
Their  dearest  action  in  the  tented  field;  85 

And  little  of  this  great  world  can  I speak, 

More  than  pertains  to  feats  of  broil  and  battle ; 

And  therefore  little  shall  I grace  my  cause  88 

In  speaking  for  myself.  1 Yet,  by  your  gracious 
patience, 

I will  a round  unvarnish’d  tale  deliver 

Of  my  whole  course  of  love;  what  drugs,  what  charms, 

What  conjuration,  and  what  mighty  magic,  92 

69  proper:  own  70  Stood  . . . action:  were  involved  by  your  charge 
74  part:  behalf  77  approv’d:  tested  and  demonstrated 

80  front:  brow,  forehead  84  wasted:  past,  ago 

91*94  what  . . . won:  with  what  drugs,  etc.,  I won 


The  Moor  of  Venice , I.  in 


17 


For  such  proceeding  I am  charg’d  withal, 

I won  his  daughter. 

Bra.  A maiden  never  bold; 

Of  spirit  so  still  and  quiet,  that  her  motion 
Blush’d  at  herself ; and  she,  in  spite  of  nature, 

Of  years,  of  country,  credit,  everything,  97 

To  fall  in  love  with  what  she  fear’d  to  look  on! 

It  is  a judgment  maim’d  and  most  imperfect 
That  will  confess  perfection  so  could  err  100 

Against  all  rules  of  nature,  and  must  be  driven 
To  find  out  practices  of  cunning  hell. 

Why  this  should  be.  I therefore  vouch  again 
That  with  some  mixtures  powerful  o’er  the  blood,  104 
Or  with  some  dram  conjur’d  to  this  effect, 

He  wrought  upon  her. 

Duke.  To  vouch  this,  is  no  proof. 

Without  more  certain  and  more  overt  test 
Than  these  thin  habits  and  poor  likelihoods  108 

Of  modern  seeming  do  prefer  against  him. 

First  Sen.  But,  Othello,  speak: 

Did  you  by  indirect  and  forced  courses 
Subdue  and  poison  this  young  maid’s  affections ; 119 

Or  came  it  by  request  and  such  fair  question 
As  soul  to  soul  affordeth? 

Oth.  I do  beseech  you, 

Send  for  the  lady  to  the  Sagittary, 

And  let  her  speak  of  me  before  her  father:  116 

If  you  do  find  me  foul  in  her  report, 

The  trust,  the  office  I do  hold  of  you, 

Not  only  take  away,  but  let  your  sentence 
Even  fall  upon  my  life. 

Duke.  Fetch  Desdemona  hither. 

93  withal : wit h 95  motion;  cf.  n.  103  vouch:  assert 

108  thin  habits:  insubstantial  appearances  109  modern : mere,  trivial 
111  forced:  violent  113  question:  conversation 


18 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


Oth.  Ancient,  conduct  them;  you  best  know  the 
place.  121 

[ Exeunt  Iago  and  Attendants .] 
And,  till  she  come,  as  truly  as  to  heaven 
I do  confess  the  vices  of  my  blood, 

So  justly  to  your  grave  ears  I’ll  present  124 

How  I did  thrive  in  this  fair  lady’s  love. 

And  she  in  mine. 

Duke.  Say  it,  Othello. 

Oth.  Her  father  lov’d  me;  oft  invited  me; 

Still  question’d  me  the  story  of  my  life  129 

From  year  to  year,  the  battles,  sieges,  fortunes 
That  I have  pass’d. 

I ran  it  through,  even  from  my  boyish  days  132 

To  the  very  moment  that  he  bade  me  tell  it; 

Wherein  I spake  of  most  disastrous  chances. 

Of  moving  accidents  by  flood  and  field. 

Of  hair-breadth  ’scapes  i’  the  imminent  deadly 
breach,  136 

Of  being  taken  by  the  insolent  foe 
And  sold  to  slavery,  of  my  redemption  thence 
And  portance  in  my  traveller’s  history; 

Wherein  of  antres  vast  and  deserts  idle,  140 

Rough  quarries,  rocks  and  hills  whose  heads  touch 
heaven, 

It  was  my  hint  to  speak,  such  was  the  process ; 

And  of  the  Cannibals  that  each  other  eat. 

The  Anthropophagi,  and  men  whose  heads  144 

Do  grow  beneath  their  shoulders.  This  to  hear 
Would  Desdemona  seriously  incline; 

But  still  the  house-affairs  would  draw  her  thence; 
Which  ever  as  she  could  with  haste  dispatch, 


129  Still:  always 
140  antres:  caves 


139  portance:  behavior 
142  hint:  cue 


The  Moor  of  Venice , I.  Hi 


19 


She’d  come  again,  and  with  a greedy  ear  149 

Devour  up  my  discourse.  Which  I observing. 

Took  once  a pliant  hour,  and  found  good  means 
To  draw  from  her  a prayer  of  earnest  heart  152 
That  I would  all  my  pilgrimage  dilate, 

Whereof  by  parcels  she  had  something  heard, 

But  not  intentively:  I did  consent; 

And  often  did  beguile  her  of  her  tears,  156 

When  I did  speak  of  some  distressful  stroke 
That  my  youth  suffer’d.  (~My  story  being  done, 

She  gave  me  for  my  pains  a world  of  sighs : 

She  swore,  in  faith,  ’twas  strange,  ’twas  passing 
strange ; 160 

'Twas  pitiful,  ’twas  wondrous  pitiful: 

She  wish’d  she  had  not  heard  it,  yet  she  wish’d 
That  heaven  had  made  her  such  a man;  she  thank’d 
me, 

And  bade  me,  if  I had  a friend  that  lov’d  her, 

I should  but  teach  him  how  to  tell  my  story,  165 

And  that  would  woo  her.  Upon  this  hint  I spake: 
She  lov’d  me  for  the  dangers  I had  pass’d. 

And  I lov’d  her  that  she  did  pity  them.  168 

This  only  is  the  witchcraft  I have  us’d: 

Here  comes  the  lady;  let  her  witness  it. 

Enter  Desdemona,  Iago,  and  Attendants. 

DuJce.  I think  this  tale  would  win  my  daughter  too. 
Good  Brabantio,  172 

Take  up  this  mangled  matter  at  the  best; 

Men  do  their  broken  weapons  rather  use 
Than  their  bare  hands. 

Bra.  I pray  you,  hear  her  speak: 

151  pliant:  suitable  153  dilate:  re  late  in  full 

154  by  parcels:  piecemeal 

155  intentively : with  undistracted  attention  166  hint:  opportunity 


20 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


If  she  confess  that  she  was  half  the  wooer,  176 

Destruction  on  my  head,  if  my  bad  blame 

Light  on  the  man ! Come  hither,  gentle  mistress : 

Do  you  perceive  in  all  this  noble  company 
Where  most  you  owe  obedience? 

Des.  My  noble  father, 

I do  perceive  here  a divided  duty:  181 

To  you  I am  bound  for  life  and  education; 

My  life  and  education  both  do  learn  me 
How  to  respect  you ; you  are  the  lord  of  duty, 

I am  hitherto  your  daughter:  but  here’s  my  hus- 
band; 185 

And  so  much  duty  as  my  mother  show’d 
To  you,  preferring  you  before  her  father. 

So  much  I challenge  that  I may  profess  188 

Due  to  the  Moor  my  lord. 

Bra.  God  be  with  you ! I have  done. 

Please  it  your  Grace,  on  to  the  state  affairs: 

I had  rather  to  adopt  a child  than  get  it. 

Come  hither,  Moor:  192 

I here  do  give  thee  that  with  all  my  heart 
Which,  but  thou  hast  already,  with  all  my  heart 
I would  keep  from  thee.  For  your  sake,  jewel, 

I am  glad  at  soul  I have  no  other  child ; 196 

For  thy  escape  would  teach  me  tyranny. 

To  hang  clogs  on  them.  I have  done,  my  lord. 

Duke.  Let  me  speak  like  yourself  and  lay  a sen- 
tence. 

Which  as  a grise  or  step,  may  help  these  lovers 
Into  your  favour.  201 

When  remedies  are  past,  the  griefs  are  ended 
By  seeing  the  worst,  which  late  on  hopes  depended. 


183  learn:  teach 

197  escape:  transgression 


191  get:  beget 
200  grise:  stair 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  I.  in 


21 


To  mourn  a mischief  that  is  past  and  gone  204 

Is  the  next  way  to  draw  new  mischief  on. 

What  cannot  be  preserv’d  when  Fortune  takes, 
Patience  her  injury  a mockery  makes. 

The  robb’d  that  smiles  steals  something  from  the 
thief ; 208 

He  robs  himself  that  spends  a bootless  grief. 
n b ra.  So  let  the  Turk  of  Cyprus  us  beguile;  <- 
We  lose  it  not  so  long  as  we  can  smile. 

He  bears  the  sentence  well  that  nothing  bears  212 
But  the  free  comfort  which  from  thence  he  hears; 
But  he  bears  both  the  sentence  and  the  sorrow 
That,  to  pay  grief,  must  of  poor  patience  borrow. 
These  sentences,  to  sugar,  or  to  gall,  216 

1 Being  strong  on  both  sides,  are  equivocal: 

But  words  are  words;  I never  yet  did  hear 
That  The  bruis’d  heart  was  pierced  through  the  ear. 
-*  I humbly  beseech  you,  proceed  to  the  affairs  of 
state.  220 

Duke.  The  Turk  with  a most  mighty  prepara- 
tion makes  for  Cyprus.  Othello,  the  fortitude  of 
the  place  is  best  known  to  you;  and  though 
we  have  there  a substitute  of  most  allowed 
sufficiency,  yet  opinion,  a sovereign  mistress  of 
effects,  throws  a more  safer  voice  on  you:  you 
must  therefore  be  content  to  slubber  the  gloss  of 
your  new  fortunes  with  this  more  stubborn  and 
boisterous  expedition.  229 

Oth.  The  tyrant  custom,  most  grave  senators. 
Hath  made  the  flinty  and  steel  couch,  of  war 
My  thrice-driven  bed  of  down:  I do  agnize  232 

205  next:  nearest  209  bootless:  unavailing  212-217  Cf.  n. 

219  pierced:  touched,  healed  (?) 

225  opinion  . . . effects:  your  reputation,  a great  producer  of  results 
227  slubber:  sully  232  driven : sifted  agnize:  acknowledge 


22 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


A natural  and  prompt  alacrity 
I find  in  hardness,  and  do  undertake 
These  present  wars  against  the  Ottomites. 

Most  humbly  therefore  bending  to  your  state, 

I crave  fit  disposition  for  my  wife,  237 

Due  reference  of  place  and  exhibition, 

With  such  accommodation  and  besort 
As  levels  with  her  breeding. 

Duke.  If  you  please,  240 

Be ’t  at  her  father’s. 

Bra.  I’ll  not  have  it  so. 

Oth.  Nor  I. 

Des.  Nor  I ; I would  not  there  reside. 

To  put  my  father  in  impatient  thoughts  244 

By  being  in  his  eye.  Most  gracious  duke, 

To  my  unfolding  lend  your  gracious  ear; 

And  let  me  find  a charter  in  your  voice 
To  assist  my  simpleness.  248 

Duke.  What  would  you,  Desdemona? 

Des.  That  I did  love  the  Moor  to  live  with  him, 

My  downright  violence  and  storm  of  fortunes 
May  trumpet  to  the  world;  my  heart’s  subdu’d 
Even  to  the  very  quality  of  my  lord;  253 

I saw  Othello’s  visage  in  his  mind. 

And  to  his  honours  and  his  valiant  parts 

Did  T my  soul  and  fortunes  consecrate.  256 

So  that,  dear  lords,  if  I be  left  behind, 

A moth  of  peace,  and  he  go  to  the  war, 

The  rites  for  which  I love  him  are  bereft  me. 

And  I a heavy  interim  shall  support  260 

233  alacrity:  eagerness  _ _ 234  hardness:  hardship 

238  reference:  assign ment  exhibition:  allowance,  awarded  means  of 

support  . 

239  besort:  suitable  retinue  247  charter:  official  sanction 

251  Cf.n.  253  quality:  profession  (?)  258  moth,  etc.;  cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  I.  Hi 


23 


By  his  dear  absence.  Let  me  go  with  him. 

Oth.  Let  her  have  your  voices. 

Vouch  with  me,  heaven,  I therefore  beg  it  not 
To  please  the  palate  of  my  appetite,  264 

Nor  to  comply  with  heat, — the  young  affects 
In  me  defunct, — and  proper  satisfaction, 

But  to  be  free  and  bounteous  to  her  mind; 

And  heaven  defend  your  good  souls  that  you 
think  268 

I will  your  serious  and  great  business  scant 
For  she  is  with  me.  No,  when  light-wing’d  toys 
Of  feather’d  Cupid  seel  with  wanton  dulness 
My  speculative  and  offic’d  instruments,  272 

That  my  disports  corrupt  and  taint  my  business. 

Let  housewives  make  a skillet  of  my  helm. 

And  all  indign  and  base  adversities 
Make  head  against  my  estimation ! 276 

Duke.  Be  it  as  you  shall  privately  determine, 

Either  for  her  stay  or  going.  The  affair  cries  haste, 
And  speed  must  answer  it. 

Sen.  You  must  away  to-night. 

Oth.  With  all  my  heart.  280 

Duke.  At  nine  i’  the  morning  here  we’ll  meet  again. 
Othello,  leave  some  officer  behind, 

And  he  shall  our  commission  bring  to  you; 

With  such  things  else  of  quality  and  respect  284 
As  doth  import  you. 

Oth.  So  please  your  Grace,  my  ancient; 

A man  he  is  of  honesty  and  trust: 

265  young  affects:  passions  of  youth  265,266  Cf.n. 

268  defend:  forbid 

270  For:  because  toys:  trifles  271  seel;  c/.  n. 

272  My  visual  and  mental  faculties  when  officially  commissioned  (?) 

274  skillet:  kettle  helm:  helmet  275  indign : unworthy 

276  Make  head:  take  arms  estimation:  reputation 
285  import:  concern 


24 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


To  his  conveyance  I assign  my  wife, 

With  what  else  needful  your  good  grace  shall 
think  288 

To  be  sent  after  me. 

Duke.  Let  it  be  so. 

Good  night  to  every  one.  [To  Brabantio .]  And,  noble 
signior, 

If  virtue  no  delighted  beauty  lack. 

Your  son-in-law  is  far  more  fair  than  black.  292 
Sen.  Adieu,  brave  Moor!  use  Desdemona  well. 
Bra.  Look  to  her,  Moor,  if  thou  hast  eyes  to  see: 
She  has  deceiv’d  her  father,  and  may  thee. 

Exit  [ with  Duke,  Senators,  Officers,  <fyc.]. 
Oth.  My  life  upon  her  faith!  Honest  Iago, 

My  Desdemona  must  I leave  to  thee:  297 

I prithee,  let  thy  wife  attend  on  her ; 

And  bring  them  after  in  the  best  advantage. 

Come,  Desdemona;  I have  but  an  hour  300 

Of  love,  of  worldly  matters  and  direction, 

To  spend  with  thee:  we  must  obey  the  time. 

Exit  [ with  Desdemona']. 

Rod.  Iago! 

Iago.  What  sayst  thou,  noble  heart?  304 

Rod.  What  will  I do,  think’st  thou? 

Iago.  Why,  go  to  bed,  and  sleep. 

Rod.  I will  incontinently  drown  myself. 

Iago.  Well,  if  thou  dost,  I shall  never  love 
thee  after.  Why,  thou  silly  gentleman!  309 

Rod.  It  is  silliness  to  live  when  to  live  is 
torment;  and  then  have  we  a prescription  to  die 
when  death  is  our  physician.  312 

Iago.  O ! villainous ; I have  looked  upon  the 
world  for  four  times  seven  years,  and  since  I 

291  delighted : delighting  307  incontinently:  immediately 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  I.  in 


25 


could  distinguish  betwixt  a benefit  and  an 
injury,  I never  found  man  that  knew  how  to 
love  himself.  Ere  I would  say,  I would  drown 
myself  for  the  love  of  a guinea-hen,  I would 
change  my  humanity  with  a baboon.  319 

Rod.  What  should  I do?  I confess  it  is  my 
shame  to  be  so  fond;  but  it  is  not  in  my  virtue 
to  amend  it.  322 

Iago.  Virtue ! a fig ! ’tis  in  ourselves  that  we 
are  thus,  or  thus.  Our  bodies  are  our  gardens, 
to  the  which  our^ wills  are  gardeners ; so  that  if  we 
will  plant  nettles  or  sow  lettuce,  set  hyssop  and 
weed  up  thyme,  supply  it  with  one  gender  of  herbs 
or  distract  it  with  many,  either  to  have  it  sterile 
with  idleness  or  manured  with  industry,  why, 
the  power  and  corrigible  authority  of  this  lies  in  330 
our  wills.  If  the  balance  of  our  lives  had  not 
one  scale  of  reason  to  poise  another  of  sensual- 
ity, the  blood  and  baseness  of  our  natures  would 
conduct  us  to  most  preposterous  conclusions ; 
but  we  have  reason  to  cool  our  raging  motions, 
our  carnal  stings,  our  unbitted  lusts,  whereof  I 
take  this  that  you  call  love  to  be  a sect  or  scion. 
Rod.  It  cannot  be.  338 

Iago.  It  is  merely  a lust  of  the  blood  and  a 
permission  of  the  will.  Come,  be  a man.  Drown 
thyself ! drown  cats  and  blind  puppies.  I have 
professed  me  thy  friend,  and  I confess  me  knit 
to  thy  deserving  with  cables  of  perdurable  tough- 
ness; I could  never  better  stead  thee  than  now. 
Put  money  in  thy  purse;  follow  these  wars; 

319  change:  exchange 

330  corrigible  authority : correcting  control 
335  motions:  impulses  337  sect:  variety 

343  perdurable:  most  durable 


327  gender:  kind 

scion:  off-shoot 
344  stead:  aid 


26 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


defeat  thy  favour  wi1’  >ed  beard;  I say. 


put  money  in  thy 


cannot  be  that 


Desdemona  should  long  continue  her  love  to  the 
Moor, — put  money  in  thy  purse, — nor  he  his  to 
her.  It  was  a violent  commencement  in  her,  350 
and  thou  shalt  see  an  answerable  sequestration; 
put  but  money  in  thy  purse.  These  Moors  are 
changeable  in  their  wills ; — fill  thy  purse  with 
money: — the  food  that  to  him  now  is  as  luscious 
as  locusts,  shall  be  to  him  shortly  as  bitter  as 
coloquintida.  (She  must  change  for  youth:  when 
she  is  sated  with  his  body,  she  will  find  the  error 
of  her  choice.  She  must  have  change,  she  must: 
therefore  put  money  in  thy  purse.  If  thou  wilt 
needs  damn  thyself,  do  it  a more  delicate  way  360 
than  drowning.  Make  all  the  money  thou  canst. 

If  sanctimony  and  a frail  vow  betwixt  an  erring 
barbarian  and  a super  subtle  Venetian  be  not  too 
hard  for  my  wits  and  all  the  tribe  of  hell,  thou 
shalt  enjoy  her;  therefore  make  money.  A pox 
of  drowning  thyself!  it  is  clean  out  of  the  way: 
seek  thou  rather  to  be  hanged  in  compassing 
thy  joy  than  to  be  drowned  and  go  without  her. 

Rod.  Wilt  thou  be  fast  to  my  hopes,  if  I 
depend  on  the  issue?  370 

Iago.  Thou  art  sure  of  me:  go,  make  money. 

[ I have  told  thee  often,  and  I re-tell  thee  again 
and  again,  I hate  the  Moor:  my  cause  is  hearted: 
thine  hath  no  less  reason.  Let  us  be  conjunc- 
tive  in  our  revenge  against  him;  if  thou  canst 

346  defeat  thy  favour:  disguise  thy  face  usurped:  false 
351  answerable  sequestration:  similarly  hasty  parting 
356  coloquintida:  an  intensely  bitter  drug 
362  erring:  roving ; cf.  n.  on  I.  i.  137 


373  hearted:  deep-seated  in  the  heart 


374  conjunctive:  united 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  I.  in 


27 


cuckold  him,  thou  dost  thyself  a pleasure,  me  a 
sport.  There  are  many  events  in  the  womb  of 
time  which  will  be  delivered.  Traverse;  go: 
provide  thy  money.  We  will  have  more  of  this 
to-morrow.  Adieu.  380 

Rod.  Where  shall  we  meet  i’  the  morning? 

Iago.  At  my  lodging. 

Rod.  I’ll  be  with  thee  betimes. 

Iago.  Go  to;  farewell.  Do  you  hear,  Roderi- 
go  ? 384 

Rod.  What  say  you? 

Iago.  No  more  of  drowning,  do  you  hear? 

Rod.  I am  chang’d.  I’ll  go  sell  all  my  land.  Exit. 
Iago.  Thus  do  I ever  make  my  fool  my  purse;  389 
For  I mine  own  gain’d  knowledge  should  profane. 

If  I would  time  expend  with  such  a snipe 

But  for  my  sport  and  profit.  I hate  the  Moor,  392 

And  it  is  thought  abroad  that  ’twixt  mv  sheets 

He  has  done  my  office : I know  not  if ’t  be  true, 

But  I,  for  mere  suspicion  in  that  kind. 

Will  do  as  if  for  surety.  He  holds  me  well;  396 
The  better  shall  my  purpose  work  on  him. 

Cassio’s  a proper  man;  let  me  see  now: 

To  get  his  place;  and  to  plume  up  my  will 
In  double  knavery;  how,  how?  jLet’s  see:  400 

After  some  time  to  abuse  Othello’s  ear 
That  he  is  too  familiar  with  his  wife: 

He  hath  a person  and  a smooth  dispose 
To  be  suspected;  fram’d  to  make  women  false. 

The  Moor  is  of  a free  and  open  nature,  405 

That  thinks  men  honest  that  but  seem  to  be  so, 

376  cuckold  him:  seduce  his  wife  378  Traverse:  march 

384  Go  to:  come,  come ! 39 5 in  that  kind:  of  that  sort 

398  proper:  fine,  good-looking  399  plume  up:  glorify 

401  abuse:  deceive  403  dispose:  manner 


28 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


And  will  as  tenderly  be  led  by  the  nose 

As  asses  are.  408 

I have ’t;  it  is  engender’d:  hell  and  night 

Must  bring  this  monstrous  birth  to  the  world’s  light. 

[Exit.-] 


ACT  SECOND 
Scene  One 

[A  Sea-port  Town  in  Cyprus.  An  open  place  near 
the  Quay ] 

Enter  Montano  and  two  Gentlemen. 

Mon.  What  from  the  cape  can  you  discern  at  sea? 
First  Gent.  Nothing  at  all:  it  is  a high-wrought 
flood; 

I cannot  ’twixt  the  heaven  and  the  main 
Descry  a sail.  4 

Mon.  Methinks  the  wind  hath  spoke  aloud  at  land; 
A fuller  blast  ne’er  shook  our  battlements ; 

If  it  hath  ruffian’d  so  upon  the  sea. 

What  ribs  of  oak,  when  mountains  melt  on  them, 

Can  hold  the  mortise  ? what  shall  we  hear  of  this  ? 9 

Sec.  Gent.  A segregation  of  the  Turkish  fleet; 

For  do  but  stand  upon  the  foaming  shore, 

The  chidden  billow  seems  to  pelt  the  clouds;  12 

The  wind-shak’d  surge,  with  high  and  monstrous 
mane, 

Seems  to  cast  water  on  the  burning  bear 
And  quench  the  guards  of  the  ever-fixed  pole: 

3 main : ocean  9 hold  the  mortise:  remain  unshattered 

10  segregation:  dispersal 

IS  guards:  two  stars  in  Ursa  Minor  pole:  pole-star 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  II.  i 


29 


I never  did  like  molestation  view  16 

On  the  enchafed  flood. 

Mon.  If  that  the  Turkish  fleet 

Be  not  enshelter’d  and  embay’d,  they  are  drown’d; 

It  is  impossible  they  bear  it  out. 

Enter  a [third]  Gentleman. 

Third  Gent.  News,  lads  ! our  wars  are  done.  20 
The  desperate  tempest  hath  so  bang’d  the  Turks 
That  their  designment  halts ; a noble  ship  of  Venice 
Hath  seen  a grievous  wrack  and  sufferance 
On  most  part  of  their  fleet.  24 

Mon.  How!  is  this  true? 

Third  Gent.  The  ship  is  here  put  in, 

A Veronesa;  Michael  Cassio, 

Lieutenant  to  the  warlike  Moor  Othello, 

Is  come  on  shore:  the  Moor  himself’s  at  sea,  28 

And  is  in  full  commission  here  for  Cyprus. 

Mon.  I am  glad  on ’t;  ’tis  a worthy  governor. 

Third  Gent.  But  this  same  Cassio,  though  he  speak 
of  comfort 

Touching  the  Turkish  loss,  yet  he  looks  sadly  32 
And  prays  the  Moor  be  safe;  for  they  were  parted 
With  foul  and  violent  tempest. 

Mon.  Pray  heaven  he  be; 

For  I have  serv’d  him,  and  the  man  commands 
Like  a full  soldier.  Let’s  to  the  sea-side,  ho ! 36 

As  well  to  see  the  vessel  that’s  come  in 
As  to  throw  out  our  eyes  for  brave  Othello, 

Even  till  we  make  the  main  and  the  aerial  blue 
An  indistinct  regard. 

Third  Gent.  Come,  let’s  do  so;  40 

16  molestation:  disturbance  22  designment:  enterprise 

23  sufferance:  disaster  26  Veronesa;  cf.  n.  36  full:  thorough 
39,  40  till  the  sea  and  sky  become  indistinguishable 


30 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


For  every  minute  is  expectancy 
Of  more  arrivance. 

Enter  Cassio. 

Cas.  Thanks,  you  the  valiant  of  this  warlike  isle. 
That  so  approve  the  Moor.  O ! let  the  heavens 
Give  him  defence  against  the  elements,  45 

For  I have  lost  him  on  a dangerous  sea. 

Mon.  Is  he  well  shipp’d? 

Cas.  His  bark  is  stoutly  timber’d,  and  his  pilot  48 
Of  very  expert  and  approv’d  allowance; 

Therefore  my  hopes,  not  surfeited  to  death. 

Stand  in  bold  cure. 

[Cry]  within . ‘A  sail! — a sail! — a sail!’ 
Enter  [ another  Gentleman ]. 

Cas.  What  noise?  52 

Gent.  The  town  is  empty ; on  the  brow  o’  the  sea 
Stand  ranks  of  people,  and  they  cry,  ‘A  sail !’ 

Cas.  My  hopes  do  shape  him  for  the  governor. 

[ Guns  heard.'] 

Gent.  They  do  discharge  their  shot  of  cour- 
tesy; 66 

Our  friends,  at  least. 

Cas.  I pray  you,  sir,  go  forth. 

And  give  us  truth  who  ’tis  that  is  arriv’d. 

Gent.  I shall.  Exit. 

Mon.  But,  good  lieutenant,  is  your  general 

wiv’d?  60 

Cas.  Most  fortunately:  he  hath  achiev’d  a maid 
That  paragons  description  and  wild  fame; 

One  that  excels  the  quirks  of  blazoning  pens, 

42  more  arrivance:  further  arrivals 
49  Of  very  allowed  and  approved  expertness 
50,  51  Cf.  n. 

63  quirks:  subtleties  blazoning:  extolling 


62  paragons:  surpasses 


The  Moor  of  Venice , II.  i 


31 


And  in  th’  essential  vesture  of  creation  64 

Does  tire  the  ingener. 

Enter  Gentleman. 

How  now ! who  has  put  in  ? 
Gent.  ’Tis  one  Iago,  ancient  to  the  general. 

Cas.  He  has  had  most  favourable  and  happy  speed: 
Tempests  themselves,  high  seas,  and  howling 
winds,  68 

The  gutter’d  rocks,  and  congregated  sands, 

Traitors  ensteep’d  to  clog  the  guiltless  keel, 

As  having  sense  of  beauty,  do  omit 

Their  mortal  natures,  letting  go  safely  by  72 

The  divine  Desdemona. 

Mon.  What  is  she? 

Cas.  She  that  I spake  of,  our  great  captain’s 
captain, 

Left  in  the  conduct  of  the  bold  Iago, 

Whose  footing  here  anticipates  our  thoughts  76 

A se’nnight’s  speed.  Great  Jove,  Othello  guard, 

And  swell  his  sail  with  thine  own  powerful  breath. 
That  he  may  bless  this  bay  with  his  tall  ship, 

Make  love’s  quick  pants  in  Desdemona’s  arms. 

Give  renew’d  fire  to  our  extincted  spirits,  81 

And  bring  all  Cyprus  comfort! 

Enter  Desdemona,  Iago,  Roderigo,  and  Emilia  [with 
Attendants ]. 

O!  behold. 

The  riches  of  the  ship  is  come  on  shore. 

Ye  men  of  Cyprus,  let  her  have  your  knees.  84 

64  in  her  mere  unadorned  natural  qualities 

65  ingener:  eulogist;  cf.  n. 

70  ensteep’d:  submerged 
75  conduct:  escort 


69  gutter’d:  jagged 
72  mortal : deadly 
84  knees:  obeisance 


32 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Hail  to  thee,  lady ! and  the  grace  of  heaven. 

Before,  behind  thee,  and  on  every  hand, 

Enwheel  thee  round! 

Des.  I thank  you,  valiant  Cassio. 

What  tidings  can  you  tell  me  of  my  lord?  88 

Cas.  He  is  not  yet  arriv’d;  nor  know  I aught 
But  that  he’s  well,  and  will  be  shortly  here. 

Des.  O!  but  I fear — How  lost  you  company? 

Cas.  The  great  contention  of  the  sea  and  skies  92 
Parted  our  fellowship.  But  hark ! a sail. 

[Crj]  within.  ‘A  sail! — a sail!’  [ Guns  heard.] 
Gent.  They  give  their  greeting  to  the  citadel: 

This  likewise  is  a friend. 

Cas.  See  for  the  news ! 

[Exit  Gentleman .] 
Good  ancient,  you  are  welcome.  [ To  Emilia.']  Wel- 
come, mistress : 96 

Let  it  not  gall  your  patience,  good  Iago, 

That  I extend  my  manners ; ’tis  my  breeding 
That  gives  me  this  bold  show  of  courtesy. 

[Kissing  her.] 

Iago.  Sir,  would  she  give  you  so  much  of  her 
lips  100 

As  of  her  tongue  she  oft  bestows  on  me, 

You’d  have  enough. 

Des.  Alas  ! she  has  no  speech. 

Iago.  In  faith,  too  much; 

I find  it  still  when  I have  list  to  sleep:  104 

Marry,  before  your  ladyship,  I grant. 

She  puts  her  tongue  a little  in  her  heart. 

And  chides  with  thinking. 

Emil.  You  have  little  cause  to  say  so.  108 

87  Enwheel:  encircle  98  extend:  show  104  list:  inclination 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  II.  i 


33 


Iago.  Come  on,  come  on;  you  are  pictures  out  of 
doors. 

Bells  in  your  parlours,  wild  cats  in  your  kitchens. 
Saints  in  your  injuries,  devils  being  offended. 

Players  in  your  housewifery,  and  housewives  in  your 
beds.  112 

Des.  O ! fie  upon  thee,  slanderer. 

Iago.  Nay,  it  is  true,  or  else  I am  a Turk: 

You  rise  to  play  and  go  to  bed  to  work. 

Emil.  You  shall  not  write  my  praise. 

Iago.  No,  let  me  not.  116 

Des.  What  wouldst  thou  write  of  me,  if  thou 
shouldst  praise  me? 

Iago.  O gentle  lady,  do  not  put  me  to ’t. 

For  I am  nothing  if  not  critical. 

Des.  Come  on;  assay.  There’s  one  gone  to  the 
harbour  ? 120 

Iago.  Ay,  madam. 

Des.  I am  not  merry,  but  I do  beguile 
The  thing  I am  by  seeming  otherwise. 

Come,  how  wouldst  thou  praise  me?  124 

Iago.  I am  about  it;  but  indeed  my  invention 
Comes  from  my  pate  as  birdlime  does  from  frize; 

It  plucks  out  brains  and  all:  but  my  muse  labours. 
And  thus  she  is  deliver’d.  128 

If  she  be  fair  and  wise,  fairness  and  wit. 

The  one’s  for  use,  the  other  useth  it. 

Des.  Well  prais’d!  How  if  she  be  black  and  witty? 
Iago.  If  she  be  black,  and  thereto  have  a wit,  132 
She’ll  find  a white  that  shall  her  blackness  fit. 

109  pictures:  i.c.,  paint  your  faces  110  Bells:  janglers 

111  Saints  . . . injuries:  adopt  saintly  air  when  saying  spiteful 
things 

112  housewifery,  housewives;  cf.  n.  123  The  . . . am:  my  real  feeling 

125  invention : imagination  126  frize:  rough  woolen  cloth 

131  black:  dark  complexioned,  brunette  133  white:  quibble  on  'wight' 


34 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


Des.  Worse  and  worse. 

Emil.  How  if  fair  and  foolish? 

Iago.  She  never  yet  was  foolish  that  was  fair. 

For  even  her  folly  help’d  her  to  an  heir.  137 

Des.  These  are  old  fond  paradoxes  to  make 
fools  laugh  i’  the  alehouse.  What  miserable 
praise  hast  thou  for  her  that’s  foul  and  foolish? 
Iago.  There’s  none  so  foul  and  foolish  there- 
unto 141 

But  does  foul  pranks  which  fair  and  wise  ones  do. 
Des.  O heavy  ignorance ! thou  praisest  the 
worst  best.  But  what  praise  couldst  thou  be- 
stow on  a deserving  woman  indeed,  one  that, 
in  the  authority  of  her  merit,  did  justly  put  on 
the  vouch  of  very  malice  itself? 

Iago.  She  that  was  ever  fair  and  never  proud. 
Had  tongue  at  will  and  yet  was  never  loud,  149 

Never  lack’d  gold  and  yet  went  never  gay, 

Fled  from  her  wish  and  yet  said  ‘Now  I may’: 

She  that  being  anger’d,  her  revenge  being  nigh, 

Bade  her  wrong  stay  and  her  displeasure  fly:  153 

She  that  in  wisdom  never  was  so  frail 
To  change  the  cod’s  head  for  the  salmon’s  tail: 

She  that  could  think  and  ne’er  disclose  her  mind. 

See  suitors  following  and  not  look  behind:  157 

She  was  a wight,  if  ever  such  wight  were, — 

Des.  To  do  what? 

Iago.  To  suckle  fools  and  chronicle  small  beer. 

Des.  O most  lame  and  impotent  conclusion ! 
Do  not  learn  of  him,  Emilia,  though  he  be  thy 
husband.  How  say  you,  Cassio?  is  he  not  a 
most  profane  and  liberal  counsellor?  164 

140  foul:  ugly  146  put  on:  challenge  147  vouch:  testimony 

155  As  to  mistake  show  for  substance  (?)  ; cf.  n. 

160  chronicle,  etc. : keep  petty  accounts  164  liberal:  licentious 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  II.  i 


35 


Cas.  He  speaks  home,  madam;  you  may 
relish  him  more  in  the  soldier  than  in  the 
scholar.  167 

Iago.  [Aside.]  He  takes  her  by  the  palm;  ay, 
well  said,  whisper;  with  as  little  a web  as  this 
will  I ensnare  as  great  a fly  as  Cassio.  Ay,  smile 
upon  her,  do;  I will  gyve  thee  in  thine  own 
courtship.  You  say  true,  ’tis  so,  indeed.  If 
such  tricks  as  these  strip  you  out  of  your 
lieutenantry,  it  had  been  better  you  had  not  174 
kissed  your  three  fingers  so  oft,  which  now 
again  you  are  most  apt  to  play  the  sir  in. 
Very  good;  well  kissed!  an  excellent  courtesy! 
’tis  so,  indeed.  Yet  again  your  fingers  to  your 
lips  ? would  they  were  clyster-pipes  for  your 
sake ! [ A trumpet  heard.]  The  Moor ! I know 
his  trumpet.  181 

Cas.  ’Tis  truly  so. 

Des.  Let’s  meet  him  and  receive  him. 

Cas.  Lo  ! where  he  comes.  184 

Enter  Othello  and  Attendants. 

Oth.  O my  fair  warrior! 

Des.  My  dear  Othello! 

Oth.  It  gives  me  wonder  great  as  my  content 
To  see  you  here  before  me.  O my  soul’s  joy! 

If  after  every  tempest  come  such  calms,  188 

May  the  winds  blow  till  they  have  waken’d  death! 
And  let  the  labouring  bark  climb  hills  of  seas 
Olympus-high,  and  duck  again  as  low 
As  hell’s  from  heaven!  If  it  were  now  to  die,  192 
’Twere  now  to  be  most  happy,  for  I fear 


166  in  the:  in  the  character  of  169  said:  done  171  gyve:  ensnare 
172  courtship:  courtliness  176  sir:  courtier,  gallant 

179  clyster-pipes:  tubes  for  injections 


36 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


My  soul  hath  her  content  so  absolute 
That  not  another  comfort  like  to  this 
Succeeds  in  unknown  fate. 

Des.  The  heavens  forbid  196 

But  that  our  loves  and  comforts  should  increase 
Even  as  our  days  do  grow ! 

Oth.  Amen  to  that,  sweet  powers ! 

I cannot  speak  enough  of  this  content; 

It  stops  me  here;  it  is  too  much  of  joy:  200 

And  this,  and  this,  [ Kissing  her ] the  greatest  discords 
be 

That  e’er  our  hearts  shall  make ! 

Iago.  [Aside.]  O!  you  are  well  tun’d  now, 

But  I’ll  set  down  the  pegs  that  make  this  music, 

As  honest  as  I am. 

Oth.  Come,  let  us  to  the  castle.  204 

News,  friends;  our  wars  are  done,  the  Turks  are 
drown’d. 

How  does  my  old  acquaintance  of  this  isle? 

Honey,  you  shall  be  well  desir’d  in  Cyprus; 

I have  found  great  love  amongst  them, 
sweet, 

I prattle  out  of  fashion,  and  I dote 
In  mine  own  comforts.  I prithee,  good  Iago, 

Go  to  the  bay  and  disembark  my  coffers. 

Bring  thou  the  master  to  the  citadel; 

He  is  a good  one,  and  his  worthiness 
Does  challenge  much  respect.  Come,  Desdemona, 
Once  more  well  met  at  Cyprus. 

Exeunt  Othello  and  Desdemona,  [with 
attendants,  etc.] 

Iago.  Do  thou  meet  me  presently  at  the 


O my 
208 


212 


203  set  . . . pegs:  untune  the  strings  by  loosening 

207  desir’d:  beloved  212  master:  ship’s  captain 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  II.  i 


37 


harbour.  Come  hither.  If  thou  be’st  valiant, 
as  they  say  base  men  being  in  love  have  then 
a nobility  in  their  natures  more  than  is  native  to 
them,  list  me.  The  lieutenant  to-night  watches 
on  the  court  of  guard:  first,  I must  tell  thee  this, 
Desdemona  is  directly  in  love  with  him. 

Rod.  With  him!  why,  ’tis  not  possible.  223 

Iago.  Lay  thy  finger  thus,  and  let  thy  soul 
be  instructed.  /Mark  me  with  what  violence  she 
first  loved  the  Moor  but  for  bragging  and  telling 
her  fantastical  lies ; and  will  she  love  him  still 
for  prating?  let  not  thy  discreet  heart  think  it. 
Her  eye  must  be  fed;  and  what  delight  shall 
she  have  to  look  on  the  devil?  When  the  blood 
is  made  dull  with  the  act  of  sport,  there  should 
be,  again  to  inflame  it,  and  to  give  satiety  a 
fresh  appetite,  loveliness  in  favour,  sympathy 
in  years,  manners,  and  beauties;  all  which  the 
Moor  is  defective  in.  Now,  for  want  of  these  235 
required  conveniences,  her  delicate  tenderness 
will  find  itself  abused,  begin  to  heave  the  gorge, 
disrelish  and  abhor  the  Moor;  very  nature  will 
instruct  her  in  it,  and  compel  her  to  some 
second  choice.  Now,  sir,  this  granted,  as  it  is  a 
most  pregnant  and  unforced  position,  who  stands 
so  eminently  in  the  degree  of  this  fortune  as 
Cassio  does?  a knave  very  voluble,  no  further 
conscionable  than  in  putting  on  the  mere  form 
of  civil  and  humane  seeming,  for  the  better 
compassing  of  his  salt  and  most  hidden  loose  246 
affection?  why,  none;  why,  none:  a slipper  and 
subtle  knave,  a finder-out  of  occasions,  that  has 

220  list:  hear  221  court:  post  237  heave  the  gorge : be  nauseated 

241  pregnant:  obvious,  plausible  243  voluble : variable,  fickle 

244  conscionable : conscientious  246  salt : lewd  247  slipper : slippery 


38 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


an  eye  can  stamp  and  counterfeit  advantages, 
though  true  advantage  never  present  itself;  a 
devilish  knave ! Besides,  the  knave  is  handsome, 
young,  and  hath  all  those  requisites  in  him  that 
folly  and  green  minds  look  after;  a pestilent 
complete  knave ! and  the  woman  hath  found 
him  already.  255 

Rod.  I cannot  believe  that  in  her;  she  is  full 
of  most  blessed  condition. 

Jago.  Blessed  fig’s  end ! the  wine  she  drinks 
is  made  of  grapes ; if  she  had  been  blessed  she 
would  never  have  loved  the  Moor;  blessed  pud- 
ding! Didst  thou  not  see  her  paddle  with  the 
palm  of  his  hand?  didst  not  mark  that? 

Rod.  Yes,  that  I did;  but  that  was  but  cour- 
tesy. 264 

Iago.  Lechery,  by  this  hand!  an  index  and 
obscure  prologue  to  the  history  of  lust  and  foul 
thoughts.  They  met  so  near  with  their  lips,  that 
their  breaths  embraced  together.  Villainous 
thoughts,  Roderigo ! When  these  mutualities  so  269 
marshal  the  way,  hard  at  hand  comes  the  master 
and  main  exercise,  the  incorporate  conclusion. 
Pish!  But,  sir,  be  you  ruled  by  me:  I have 
brought  you  from  Venice.  Watch  you  to-night; 
for  the  command,  I’ll  lay ’t  upon  you:  Cassio 
knows  you  not.  I’ll  not  be  far  from  you:  do  you 
find  some  occasion  to  anger  Cassio,  either  by 
speaking  too  loud,  or  tainting  his  discipline; 
or  from  what  other  course  you  please,  which 
the  time  shall  more  favourably  minister. 

254  found  him:  recognized  his  qualities 
257  condition:  quality 
270  marshal:  lead 
277  tainting:  disparaging 


269  mutualities:  intimacies 
271  incorporate:  carnal 
279  minister : provide 


The  Moor  of  Venice , II.  i 


39 


Rod.  Well.  280 

Iago.  Sir,  he  is  rash  and  very  sudden  in 
choler,  and  haply  may  strike  at  you:  provoke 
him,  that  he  may;  for  even  out  of  that  will  I 
cause  these  of  Cyprus  to  mutiny,  whose  quali- 
fication shall  come  into  no  true  taste  again  but 
by  the  displanting  of  Cassio.  So  shall  you  have 
a shorter  journey  to  your  desires  by  the  means 
I shall  then  have  to  prefer  them;  and  the  im- 
pediment most  profitably  removed,  without  the 
which  there  were  no  expectation  of  our  pros- 
perity. 291 

Rod.  I will  do  this,  if  I can  bring  it  to  any 
opportunity. 

Iago.  I warrant  thee.  Meet  me  by  and  by  at 
the  citadel:  I must  fetch  his  necessaries  ashore. 
Farewell.  296 

Rod.  Adieu.  Exit. 

Iago.  That  Cassio  loves  her,  I do  well  believe  it; 
That  she  loves  him,  ’tis  apt,  and  of  great  credit: 

The  Moor,  howbeit  that  I endure  him  not,  300 

Is  of  a constant,  loving,  noble  nature; 

And  I dare  think  he’ll  prove  to  Desdemona 
A most  dear  husband.  Now,  I do  love  her  too; 

Not  out  of  absolute  lust, — though  peradventure 
I stand  accountant  for  as  great  a sin, — 305 

But  partly  led  to  diet  my  revenge. 

For  that  I do  jmspect  the  lusty  Moor 
Hath  leap’d  into  mv  seat:  the  thought  whereof 
Doth  like  a poisonous  mineral  gnaw  my  inwards ; 309 

And  nothing  can  or  shall  content  my  soul 

281,282  in  choler  •.when  enraged  284  qualification:  pacification 

285  true  taste:  satisfactory  state  288  prefer:  promote 

299  apt  . . . credit:  natural  and  very  credible 

305  accountant:  accountable  306  diet:  glut  309  mineral:  drug 


40 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Till  I am  even'd  with  him.  wifp_for  wife; 

Or  failing  so,  yet  that  I put  the  Moor  312 

At  least  into  a jealousy  so  strong 

That  judgment  cannot  cure.  Which  thing  to  do, 

If  this  poor  trash  of  Venice,  whom  I trace 
For  his  quick  hunting,  stand  the  putting-on. 

I’ll  have  our  Michael  Cassio  on  the  hip;  317 

Abuse  him  to  the  Moor  in  the  rank  garb, — 

For  I fear  Cassio  with  my  night-cap  too, — 

Make  the  Moor  thank  me,  love  me,  and  reward 
me  320 

For  making  him  egregiously  an  ass 
And  practising  upon  his  peace  and  quiet 
Even  to  madness.  ’Tis  here,  but  yet  confus’d: 
Knavery’s  plain  face  is  never  seen  till  us’d.  324 

Exit. 


Scene  Two 
[ A Street ] 

Enter  Othello’s  Herald,  with  a proclamation. 

[ People  following .] 

Her.  It  is  Othello's  pleasure,  our  noble  and 
valiant  general,  that,  upon  certain  tidings  now 
arrived,  importing  the  mere  perdition  of  the 
Turkish  fleet,  every  man  put  himself  into  tri- 
umph; some  to  dance,  some  to  make  bonfires,  5 
each  man  to  what  sport  and  revels  his  addiction 
leads  him;  for,  besides  these  beneficial  news,  it 
is  the  celebration  of  his  nuptial.  So  much  was 

315  Cf.n.  318  rank  garb:  grossest  fashion 

322  practising  upon : using  wiles  against 

323  to  madness:  to  the  point  of  driving  him  mad 

3 mere  perdition:  complete  destruction 

4 put  . . . triumph : give  himself  up  to  celebrating  the  occasion 

6 addiction:  inclination 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  II.  in 


41 


his  pleasure  should  be  proclaimed.  All  offices  9 
are  open,  and  there  is  full  liberty  of  feasting 
from  this  present  hour  of  five  till  the  bell  have 
told  eleven.  Heaven  bless  the  isle  of  Cyprus 
and  our  noble  general  Othello!  Exeunt. 

[Scene  Three 
A Hall  in  the  Castle ] 

Enter  Othello,  Desdemona,  Cassio,  and  Attendants. 

Oth.  Good  Michael,  look  you  to  the  guard  to-night: 
Let’s  teach  ourselves  that  honourable  stop. 

Not  to  outsport  discretion. 

Cas.  Iago  hath  direction  what  to  do;  4 

But,  notwithstanding,  with  my  personal  eye 
WiH  I look  to ’t. 

Oth.  Iago  is  most  honest. 

Michael,  good  night ; to-morrow  with  your  earliest 
Let  me  have  speech  with  you. 

[To  Desdemona .]  Come,  my  dear  love,  8 
The  purchase  made,  the  fruits  are  to  ensue; 

That  profit’s  yet  to  come  ’twixt  me  and  you. 

Good  night. 

Exit  [with  Desdemona  and  Attendants ]. 
Enter  Iago. 

Cas.  Welcome,  Iago;  we  must  to  the  watch.  12 
Iago.  Not  this  hour,  lieutenant;  ’tis  not  yet 
ten  o’  the  clock.  Our  general  cast  us  thus  early 
for  the  love  of  his  Desdemona,  who  let  us  not 
therefore  blame;  he  hath  not  yet  made  wanton 
the  night  with  her,  and  she  is  sport  for  Jove.  17 
Cas.  She’s  a most  exquisite  lady. 


9 offices : storerooms,  kitchens,  in  the  castle 


Scene  Three;  cf. «. 


42 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Iago.  And,  I’ll  warrant  her,  full  of  game. 

Cas.  Indeed,  she  is  a most  fresh  and  delicate 
creature.  21 

Iago.  What  an  eye  she  has ! methinks  it 
sounds  a parley  of  provocation. 

Cas.  An  inviting  eye;  and  yet  methinks  right 
modest.  25 

Iago.  And  when  she  speaks,  is  it  not  an 
alarum  to  love? 

Cas.  She  is  indeed  perfection.  28 

Iago.  Well,  happiness  to  their  sheets!  Come, 
lieutenant,  I have  a stoup  of  wine,  and  here 
without  are  a brace  of  Cyprus  gallants  that 
would  fain  have  a measure  to  the  health  of  black 
Othello.  33 

Cas.  Not  to-night,  good  Iago:  I have  very 
poor  and  unhappy  brains  for  drinking:  I could 
well  wish  courtesy  would  invent  some  other 
custom  of  entertainment.  37 

Iago.  O!  they  are  our  friends;  but  one  cup: 
I’ll  drink  for  you. 

Cas.  I have  drunk  but  one  cup  to-night,  and 
that  was  craftily  qualified  too,  and,  behold, 
what  innovation  it  makes  here:  I am  unfor- 
tunate in  the  infirmity,  and  dare  not  task  my 
weakness  with  any  more.  44 

Iago.  What,  man ! ’tis  a night  of  revels ; the 
gallants  desire  it. 

Cas.  Where  are  they? 

Iago.  Here  at  the  door;  I pray  you,  call 
them  in.  49 

27  alarum:  summons 
41  qualified:  diluted 


23  parley:  trumpet-call 
30  stoup : two-quart  measure 
42  innovation : disturbance 


here : in  my  head 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  II.  Hi 


43 


Cas.  I’ll  do’t;  but  it  dislikes  me.  Exit. 

Iago.  If  I can  fasten  but  one  cup  upon  him. 

With  that  which  he  hath  drunk  to-night  already, 
He’ll  be  as  full  of  quarrel  and  offence  53 

As  my  young  mistress’  dog.  Now,  my  sick  fool 
Roderigo, 

Whom  love  has  turn’d  almost  the  wrong  side  out. 

To  Desdemona  hath  to-night  carous’d  56 

Potations  pottle-deep;  and  he’s  to  watch. 

Three  lads  of  Cyprus,  noble  swelling  spirits. 

That  hold  their  honours  in  a wary  distance. 

The  very  elements  of  this  warlike  isle,  60 

Have  I to-night  fluster’d  with  flowing  cups. 

And  they  watch  too.  Now,  ’mongst  this  flock  of 
drunkards, 

Am  I to  put  our  Cassio  in  some  action 

That  may  offend  the  isle.  But  here  they  come. 

If  consequence  do  but  approve  my  dream,  65 

My  boat  sails  freely,  both  with  wind  and  stream. 

Enter  Cassio,  Montano,  and  Gentlemen.  [ Servants 
following  with  wine.] 

Cas.  'Fore  God,  they  have  given  me  a rouse 
already.  68 

Mon.  Good  faith,  a little  one;  not  past  a 
pint,  as  I am  a soldier. 

Iago.  Some  wine,  ho ! 

[Sing's] 

‘And  let  me  the  canakin  clink,  clink;  72 

And  let  me  the  canakin  clink: 

A soldier’s  a man; 

A life’s  but  a span; 

50  it  dislikes  me:  it  is  distasteful  to  me 

57  pottle-deep:  to  the  bottom  of  the  tankard  59  Cf.  «. 

60  elements:  typical  representatives  67  rouse:  bumper  72  Cf.n. 


44 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Why  then  let  a soldier  drink.’  76 

Some  wine,  boys ! 

Cas.  ’Fore  God,  an  excellent  song. 
lago.  I learned  it  in  England,  where  indeed 
they  are  most  potent  in  potting;  your  Dane, 
your  German,  and  your  swag-bellied  Hollander, 

— drink,  ho! — are  nothing  to  your  English. 

Cas.  Is  your  Englishman  so  expert  in  his 
drinking  ? 84 

lago.  Why,  he  drinks  you  with  facility  your 
Dane  dead  drunk;  he  sweats  not  to  overthrow 
your  Almain;  he  gives  your  Hollander  a vomit 
ere  the  next  pottle  can  be  filled.  88 

Cas.  To  the  health  of  our  general ! 

Mon.  I am  for  it,  lieutenant;  and  I’ll  do  you 
justice. 

lago.  O sweet  England!  92 

‘King  Stephen  was  a worthy  peer. 

His  breeches  cost  him  but  a crown ; 

He  held  them  sixpence  all  too  dear. 

With  that  he  call’d  the  tailor  lown.  96 

He  was  a wight  of  high  renown. 

And  thou  art  but  of  low  degree: 

'Tis  pride  that  pulls  the  country  down, 

Then  take  thine  auld  cloak  about  thee.’  100 

Some  wine,  ho! 

Cas.  Why,  this  is  a more  exquisite  song  than 
the  other. 

lago.  Will  you  hear ’t  again?  104 

Cas.  No;  for  I hold  him  to  be  unworthy  of 
his  place  that  does  those  things.  Well,  God’s 


80  potent  in  potting:  mighty  in  drinking 

81  swag-bellied : fat-paunched  87  Almain : German 

90  do  you  justice:  keep  pace  with  you  in  drinking  96  lown:  loon,  lout 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  II.  in 


45 


above  all;  and  there  be  souls  must  be  saved,  and 
there  be  souls  must  not  be  saved.  108 

Iago.  It’s  true,  good  lieutenant. 

Cos.  For  mine  own  part, — no  offence  to  the 
general,  nor  any  man  of  quality, — I hope  to  be 
saved.  112 

Iago.  And  so  do  I too,  lieutenant. 

Cas.  Ay;  but,  by  your  leave,  not  before  me; 
the  lieutenant  is  to  be  saved  before  the  ancient. 
Let’s  have  no  more  of  this ; let’s  to  our  affairs. 
God  forgive  us  our  sins ! Gentlemen,  let’s  look 
to  our  business.  Do  not  think,  gentlemen,  I am 
drunk:  this  is  my  ancient;  this  is  my  right 
hand,  and  this  is  my  left  hand.  I am  not  drunk 
now;  I can  stand  well  enough,  and  speak  well 
enough.  122 

All.  Excellent  well. 

Cas.  Why,  very  well,  then;  you  must  not 
think  then  that  I am  drunk.  Exit. 

Mon.  To  the  platform,  masters;  come,  let’s  set  the 
watch. 

Iago.  You  see  this  fellow  that  is  gone  before; 

He  is  a soldier  fit  to  stand  by  Caesar  128 

And  give  direction;  and  do  but  see  his  vice; 

’Tis  to  his  virtue  a just  equinox, 

The  one  as  long  as  the  other;  ’tis  pity  of  him. 

I fear  the  trust  Othello  puts  him  in,  182 

On  some  odd  time  of  his  infirmity, 

Will  shake  this  island. 

Mon.  But  is  he  often  thus? 

Iago.  ’Tis  evermore  the  prologue  to  his  sleep: 


126  platform : rampart 


130  just  equinox:  exact  counterpart 


46 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


He’ll  watch  the  horologe  a double  set. 
If  drink  rock  not  his  cradle. 


136 


Mon. 


It  were  well 


The  general  were  put  in  mind  of  it. 

Perhaps  he  sees  it  not;  or  his  good  nature 
Prizes  the  virtue  that  appears  in  Cassio, 

And  looks  not  on  his  evils.  Is  not  this  true? 


140 


Enter  Roderigo. 


Iago.  [Aside  to  him.]  How  now,  Roderigo! 
I pray  you,  after  the  lieutenant ; go. 


Exit  Roderigo. 


Mon.  And  ’tis  great  pity  that  the  noble  Moor  144 
Should  hazard  such  a place  as  his  own  second 
With  one  of  an  ingraft  infirmity; 

It  were  an  honest  action  to  say 
So  to  the  Moor. 

Iago.  Not  I,  for  this  fair  island:  148 

I do  love  Cassio  well,  and  would  do  much 
To  cure  him  of  this  evil.  But  hark!  what  noise? 

[Cry]  within.  ‘Help!  Help!’ 

Enter  Cassio,  pursuing  Roderigo. 

Cas.  You  rogue,  you  rascal! 

Mon.  What’s  the  matter,  lieutenant? 

Cas.  A knave  teach  me  my  duty ! 152 

I’ll  beat  the  knave  into  a twiggen  bottle. 

Rod.  Beat  me ! 

Cas.  Dost  thou  prate,  rogue? 

[Striking  Roderigo.] 

Mon.  [Staying  him.]  Nay,  good  lieutenant; 

I pray  you,  sir,  hold  your  hand. 

136  Cf.  n.  146  ingraft:  firmly  rooted  153  Cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  II.  in 


47 


Cas.  Let  me  go,  sir,  156 

Or  I’ll  knock  you  o’er  the  mazzard. 

Mon.  Come,  come;  you’re  drunk. 

Cas.  Drunk!  They  fight. 

Iago.  [Aside  to  Roderigo.\  Away,  I say!  go  out, 
and  cry  a mutiny.  Exit  Roderigo. 

Nay,  good  lieutenant ! God’s  will,  gentlemen ! 160 

Help,  ho  ! Lieutenant ! sir ! Montano ! sir  ! 

Help,  masters  ! Here’s  a goodly  watch  indeed ! 

Bell  rings. 

Who’s  that  that  rings  the  bell?  Diablo,  ho! 

The  town  will  rise:  God’s  will!  lieutenant,  hold! 

You  will  be  sham’d  for  ever. 

Enter  Othello  and  Attendants. 

Oth.  What  is  the  matter  here  ? 165 

Mon.  ’Zounds  ! I bleed  still ; I am  hurt  to  the  death. 
Oth.  Hold,  for  your  lives ! 

Iago.  Hold,  ho,  lieutenant ! Sir  ! Montano ! gentle- 
men ! 168 

Have  you  forgot  all  sense  of  place  and  duty? 

Hold ! the  general  speaks  to  you ; held  for  shame ! 

Oth.  Why,  how  now,  ho  ! from  whence  ariseth  this  ? 
Are  we  turn’d  Turks,  and  to  ourselves  do  that 
Which  heaven  hath  forbid  the  Ottomites?  173 

For  Christian  shame  put  by  this  barbarous  brawl; 
He  that  stirs  next  to  carve  for  his  own  rage 
Holds  his  soul  light;  he  dies  upon  his  motion. 

Silence  that  dreadful  bell ! it  frights  the  isle  177 

From  her  propriety.  What  is  the  matter,  masters? 
Honest  Iago,  that  look’st  dead  with  grieving, 

Speak,  who  began  this?  on  thy  love,  I charge 
thee.  180 


157  mazzard:  head 


163  Diablo;  cf.  n. 


175  carve  for : satisfy 


48 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello , 


I ago.  I do  not  know ; friends  all  but  now,  even  now. 
In  quarter  and  in  terms  like  bride  and  groom 
Devesting  them  for  bed;  and  then,  but  now, — 

As  if  some  planet  had  unwitted  men, — 184 

Swords  out,  and  tilting  one  at  other’s  breast. 

In  opposition  bloody.  I cannot  speak 
Any  beginning  to  this  peevish  odds. 

And  would  in  action  glorious  I had  lost  188 

Those  legs  that  brought  me  to  a part  of  it ! 

Oth.  How  comes  it,  Michael,  you  are  thus  forgot? 

Cas.  I pray  you,  pardon  me;  I cannot  speak. 

Oth.  Worthy  Montano,  you  were  wont  be  civil;  192 
The  gravity  and  stillness  of  your  youth 
The  world  hath  noted,  and  your  name  is  great 
In  mouths  of  wisest  censure:  what’s  the  matter. 

That  you  unlace  your  reputation  thus  196 

And  spend  your  rich  opinion  for  the  name 
Of  a night-brawler  ? give  me  answer  to  it. 

Mon.  Worthy  Othello,  I am  hurt  to  danger; 

Your  officer,  Iago,  can  inform  you,  200 

While  I spare  speech,  which  something  now  offends 
me, 

Of  all  that  I do  know ; nor  know  I aught 
By  me  that’s  said  or  done  amiss  this  night, 

Unless  self-charity  be  sometimes  a vice,  204 

And  to  defend  ourselves  it  be  a sin 
When  violence  assails  us. 

Oth.  Now,  by  heaven. 

My  blood  begins  my  safer  guides  to  rule. 

And  passion,  having  my  best  judgment  collied, 
Assays  to  lead  the  way.  If  I once  stir,  209 

Or  do  but  lift  this  arm,  the  best  of  you 

182  In  . • . terms:  on  a footing  187  odds:  quarrel 

195  censure:  judgment  196  unlace:  undo  197  opinion:  good  name 
201  something:  somewhat  offends : harms  208  collied:  darkened 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  II.  in 


49 


Shall  sink  in  my  rebuke.  Give  me  to  know 

How  this  foul  rout  began,  who  set  it  on;  212 

And  he  that  is  approv’d  in  this  offence. 

Though  he  had  twinn’d  with  me — both  at  a birth — 
Shall  lose  me.  What ! in  a town  of  war. 

Yet  wild,  the  people’s  hearts  brimful  of  fear,  216 
To  manage  private  and  domestic  quarrel. 

In  night,  and  on  the  court  and  guard  of  safety ! 

’Tis  monstrous.  Iago,  who  began ’t? 

Mon.  If  partially  affin’d,  or  leagu’d  in  office. 

Thou  dost  deliver  more  or  less  than  truth,  221 

Thou  art  no  soldier. 

Iago.  Touch  me  not  so  near; 

I had  rather  have  this  tongue  cut  from  my  mouth 
Than  it  should  do  offence  to  Michael  Cassio;  224 
Yet,  I persuade  myself,  to  speak  the  truth 
Shall  nothing  wrong  him.  Thus  it  is,  general. 
Montano  and  myself  being  in  speech, 

There  comes  a fellow  crying  out  for  help,  228 

And  Cassio  following  with  determin’d  sword 
To  execute  upon  him.  Sir,  this  gentleman 
Steps  in  to  Cassio,  and  entreats  his  pause; 

Myself  the  crying  fellow  did  pursue,  232 

Lest  by  his  clamour,  as  it  so  fell  out. 

The  town  might  fall  in  fright;  he,  swift  of  foot. 
Outran  my  purpose,  and  I return’d  the  rather 
For  that  I heard  the  clink  and  fall  of  swords. 

And  Cassio  high  in  oath,  which  till  to-night  237 

I ne’er  might  say  before.  When  I came  back,- — - 
For  this  was  brief, — I found  them  close  together. 

At  blow  and  thrust,  even  as  again  they  were  240 
When  you  yourself  did  part  them. 

212  rout:  riot  213  approv’d:  convicted  217  mana ge:  set  on  foot 
218  on  . . . safety;  cf.  n.  220  partially  affin’d:  bound  by  partiality 


50 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


More  of  this  matter  can  I not  report: 

But  men  are  men;  the  best  sometimes  forget: 

Though  Cassio  did  some  little  wrong  to  him,  244 
As  men  in  rage  strike  those  that  wish  them  best, 

Yet,  surely  Cassio,  I believe,  receiv’d 
From  him  that  fled  some  strange  indignity, 

Which  patience  could  not  pass. 

Oth.  I know,  Iago,  248 

Thy  honesty  and  love  doth  mince  this  matter, 

Making  it  light  to  Cassio.  Cassio,  I love  thee; 

But  never  more  be  officer  of  mine. 

Enter  Desdemona,  attended. 

Look,  if  my  gentle  love  be  not  rais’d  up ! 252 

[To  Cassio.]  I’ll  make  thee  an  example. 

Des.  What’s  the  matter? 

Oth.  All’s  well  now,  sweeting;  come  away  to  bed. 
Sir,  for  your  hurts,  myself  will  be  your  surgeon. 

Lead  him  off.  [ Montano  is  led  off.~\ 

Iago,  look  with  care  about  the  town,  257 

And  silence  those  whom  this  vile  brawl  distracted. 
Come,  Desdemona;  ’tis  the  soldiers’  life, 

To  have  their  balmy  slumbers  wak’d  with  strife. 

Exit  [ with  Desdemona  and  attendants ]. 
Iago.  What!  are  you  hurt,  lieutenant?  261 

Cas.  Ay;  past  all  surgery. 

Iago.  Marry,  heaven  forbid ! 

Cas.  Reputation,  reputation,  reputation ! O ! 

I have  lost  my  reputation.  I have  lost  the  im- 
mortal part  of  myself,  and  what  remains  is 
bestial.  My  reputation,  Iago,  my  reputation ! 

Iago.  As  I am  an  honest  man,  I thought  you 
had  received  some  bodily  wound;  there  is  more 


244  him:  i.e.,  Montano 


The  Moor  of  Venice , II.  Hi 


51 


sense  in  that  than  in  reputation.  Reputation 
is  an  idle  and  most  false  imposition;  oft  got 
without  merit,  and  lost  without  deserving:  you 
have  lost  no  reputation  at  all,  unless  you  repute 
yourself  such  a loser.  What,  man ! there  are  274 
ways  to  recover  the  general  again;  you  are  but 
now  cast  in  his  mood,  a punishment  more  in 
policy  than  in  malice;  even  so  as  one  would  beat 
his  offenceless  dog  to  affright  an  imperious  lion. 
Sue  to  him  again,  and  he  is  yours.  279 

Cas.  I will  rather  sue  to  be  despised  than  to 
deceive  so  good  a commander  with  so  slight,  so 
drunken,  and  so  indiscreet  an  officer.  Drunk! 
and  speak  parrot!  and  squabble,  swagger,  swear, 
and  discourse  fustian  with  one’s  own  shadow! 

O thou  invisible  spirit  of  wine ! if  thou  hast  no 
name  to  be  known  by,  let  us  call  thee  devil ! 

Iago.  What  was  he  that  you  followed  with 
your  sword?  What  had  he  done  to  you?  288 

Cas.  I know  not. 

Iago.  Is ’t  possible? 

Cas.  I remember  a mass  of  things,  but  no- 
thing distinctly;  a quarrel,  but  nothing  where- 
fore. O God ! that  men  should  put  an  enemy  in 
their  mouths  to  steal  away  their  brains ; that 
we  should,  with  joy,  pleasance,  revel,  and  ap- 
plause, transform  ourselves  into  beasts.  296 

Iago.  Why,  but  you  are  now  well  enough; 
how  came  you  thus  recovered? 

Cas.  It  hath  pleased  the  devil  drunkenness  to 
give  place  to  the  devil  wrath;  one  unperfectness 

271  imposition:  adjunct  276  mood:  temporary  feeling 

283  speak  parrot:  use  words  without  being  rationally  self-conscious 

284  discourse  fustian:  talk  nonsense 


52 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


shows  me  another,  to  make  me  frankly  despise 
myself.  302 

Iago.  Come,  you  are  too  severe  a moraler. 

As  the  time,  the  place,  and  the  condition  of  this 
country  stands,  I could  heartily  wish  this  had 
not  befallen,  but  since  it  is  as  it  is,  mend  it  for 
your  own  good.  307 

Cas.  I will  ask  him  for  my  place  again;  he 
shall  tell  me  I am  a drunkard ! Had  I as  many 
mouths  as  Hydra,  such  an  answer  would  stop 
them  all.  To  be  now  a sensible  man,  by  and  by 
a fool,  and  presently  a beast ! O strange ! Every 
inordinate  cup  is  unblessed  and  the  ingredient  is 
a devil.  314 

Iago.  Come,  come ; good  wine  is  a good 
familiar  creature  if  it  be  well  used;  exclaim  no 
more  against  it.  And,  good  lieutenant,  I think 
you  think  I love  you.  318 

Cas.  I have  well  approved  it,  sir.  I drunk ! 
Iago.  You  or  any  man  living  may  be  drunk 
at  some  time,  man.  I’ll  tell  you  what  you  shall 
do.  Our  general’s  wife  is  now  the  general:  I 
may  say  so  in  this  respect,  for  that  he  hath  de- 
voted and  given  up  himself  to  the  contemplation, 
mark,  and  denotement  of  her  parts  and  graces : 325 
confess  yourself  freely  to  her;  importune  her; 
she’ll  help  to  put  you  in  your  place  again.  She 
is  of  so  free,  so  kind,  so  apt,  so  blessed  a disposi- 
tion, that  she  holds  it  a vice  in  her  goodness  not 
to  do  more  than  she  is  requested.  This  broken 
joint  between  you  and  her  husband  entreat  her 
to  splinter;  and  my  fortunes  against  any  lay 

303  moraler:  moralizer  310  Hydra;  cf.  n. 

316  familiar:  serviceable  325  denotement:  observation 

332  splinter:  bind  with  splints  lay : wager 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  II.  in 


£3 


worth  naming,  this  crack  of  your  love  shall 
grow  stronger  than  it  was  before.  334 

Cas.  You  advise  me  well. 

Iago.  I protest,  in  the  sincerity  of  love  and 
honest  kindness.  337 

Cas.  I think  it  freely;  and  betimes  in  the 
morning  I will  beseech  the  virtuous  Desdemona 
to  undertake  for  me.  I am  desperate  of  my 
fortunes  if  they  check  me  here.  341 

Iago.  You  are  in  the  right.  Good  night, 
lieutenant ; I must  to  the  watch. 

Cas.  Good  night,  honest  Iago!  Exit  Cassio. 
Iago.  And  what’s  he  then  that  says  I play  the 
villain  ? 345 

When  this  advice  is  free  I give  and  honest, 

Probal  to  thinking  and  indeed  the  course 

To  win  the  Moor  again?  For  ’tis  most  easy  348 

The  inclining  Desdemona  to  subdue 

In  any  honest  suit ; she’s  fram’d  as  fruitful 

As  the  free  elements.  And  then  for  her 

To  win  the  Moor,  were ’t  to  renounce  his  baptism,  352 

All  seals  and  symbols  of  redeemed  sin. 

His  soul  is  so  enfetter’d  to  iler  love, 

That  jshe  may  make,  unmake,  do  what  she  list. 

Even  as  her  appetite  shall  play  the  god  356 

With  his  weak  function.  How  am  I then  a villain 
To  counsel  Cassio  to  this  parallel  course. 

Directly  to  his  good?  Divinity  of  hell! 

When  devils  will  the  blackest  sins  put  on,  360 

They  do  suggest  at  first  with  heavenly  shows. 

As  I do  now ; for  while  this  honest  fool 
Plies  Desdemona  to  repair  his  fortunes, 


347  Probal:  probable 
357  function:  character 
360  put  on:  instigate 


350  fruitful:  bountiful 
358  parallel:  straight  (?) 
361  suggest:  tempt 


54 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


\ And  she  for  him  pleads  strongly  to  the  Moor,  364 
I’ll  pour  this  pestilence  into  his  ear 
That  she  repeals  him  for  her  body’s  lust; 

And,  by  how  much  she  strives  to  do  him  good, 

She  shall  undo  her  credit  with  the  Moor.  368 

So  will  I turn  her  virtue  into  pitch, 

And  out  of  her  own  goodness  make  the  net 
That  shall  enmesh  them  all. 

Enter  Roderigo. 

How  now,  Roderigo ! 
Rod.  I do  follow  here  in  the  chase,  not  like  a 372 
hound  that  hunts,  but  one  that  fills  up  the  cry. 
My  money  is  almost  spent;  I have  been  to-night 
exceedingly  well  cudgelled;  and  I think  the  issue 
will  be,  I shall  have  so  much  experience  for  my 
pains ; and  so,  with  no  money  at  all  and  a little 
more  wit,  return  again  to  Venice. 

Iago.  How  poor  are  they  that  have  not  patience! 
What  wound  did  ever  heal  but  by  degrees  ? 380 

Thou  know’st  we  work  by  wit  and  not  by  witchcraft. 
And  wit  depends  on  dilatory  time. 

Does ’t  not  go  well?  Cassio  hath  beaten  thee. 

And  thou  by  that  small  hurt  hast  cashiered 
Cassio.  384 

Though  other  things  grow  fair  against  the  sun. 

Yet  fruits  that  blossom  first  will  first  be  ripe: 

Content  thyself  awhile.  By  the  mass,  ’tis  morning; 
Pleasure  and  action  make  the  hours  seem  short. 
Retire  thee;  go  where  thou  art  billeted:  389 

Away,  I say;  thou  shalt  know  more  hereafter: 

Nay,  get  thee  gone.  Exit  Roderigo. 

Two  things  are  to  be  done, 


366  repeals:  recalls  to  favor 


372,  373  Cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  III.  i 55 


My  wife  must  move  for  Cassio  to  her  mistress; 

I’ll  set  her  on;  393 

Myself  the  while  to  draw  the  Moor  apart, 

And  bring  him  jump  when  he  may  Cassio  find 
Soliciting  his  wife:  ay,  that’s  the  way:  396 

Dull  not  device  by  coldness  and  delay.  Exit. 


ACT  THIRD 

Scene  One 
[ Before  the  Castle ] 

Enter  Cassio  with  Musicians. 

Cas.  Masters,  play  here,  I will  content  your  pains ; 
Something  that’s  brief;  and  bid  ‘Good  morrow, 
general.’ 

They  play,  and  enter  the  Clown. 
Clo.  Why,  masters,  have  your  instruments 
been  in  Naples,  that  they  speak  i’  the  nose  thus? 
First  Mus.  How,  sir,  how?  5 

Clo.  Are  these,  I pray  you,  wind-instruments  ? 
First  Mus.  Ay,  marry,  are  they,  sir. 

Clo.  O ! thereby  hangs  a tail.  8 

First  Mus.  Whereby  hangs  a tale,  sir? 

Clo.  Marry,  sir,  by  many  a wind-instrument 
that  I know.  But,  masters,  here’s  money  for 
you;  and  the  general  so  likes  your  music,  that 
he  desires  you,  for  love’s  sake,  to  make  no  more 
noise  with  it.  14 

First  Mus.  Well,  sir,  we  will  not. 

Clo.  If  you  have  any  music  that  may  not  be 


395  jump:  precisely  2 S.  d.  Clown;  cf.  n. 

10  Marry:  originally  an  invocation  of  the  Virgin 


3,  4 Cf.  n. 


56 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


heard,  to ’t  again ; but,  as  they  say,  to  hear 
music  the  general  does  not  greatly  care.  18 

First  Mus.  We  have  none  such,  sir. 

Clo.  Then  put  up  your  pipes  in  your  bag,  for 
I’ll  away.  Go ; vanish  into  air ; away ! 21 

Exeunt  Musicians. 

Cas.  Dost  thou  hear,  mine  honest  friend? 

Clo.  No,  I hear  not  your  honest  friend;  I 
hear  you.  24 

Cas.  Prithee,  keep  up  thy  quillets.  There’s  a 
poor  piece  of  gold  for  thee.  If  the  gentlewoman 
that  attends  the  general’s  wife  be  stirring,  tell 
her  there’s  one  Cassio  entreats  her  a little 
favour  of  speech : wilt  thou  do  this  ? 29 

Clo.  She  is  stirring,  sir:  if  she  will  stir  hither, 

I shall  seem  to  notify  unto  her. 

Cas.  Do,  good  my  friend.  Exit  Clown. 

Enter  Iago. 

In  happy  time,  Iago.  82 
Iago.  You  have  not  been  a-bed,  then? 

Cas.  Why,  no;  the  day  had  broke 
Before  we  parted.  I have  made  bold,  Iago, 

To  send  in  to  your  wife;  my  suit  to  her  36 

Is,  that  she  will  to  virtuous  Desdemona 
Procure  me  some  access. 

Iago.  I’ll  send  her  to  you  presently; 

And  I’ll  devise  a mean  to  draw  the  Moor 
Out  of  the  way,  that  your  converse  and  business  40 
May  be  more  free. 

Cas.  I humbly  thank  you  for ’t.  [Exit  IagoJ\ 

25  quillets:  quibbles  27  stirring:  up  and  dressed  (in  the  morning) 

32  In  . . . time:  well  met  38  presently : immediately 


The  Moor  of  Venice , III.  ii 


57 


I never  knew 

A Florentine  more  kind  and  honest. 

Enter  Emilia. 

Emil.  Good  morrow,  good  lieutenant:  I am 
sorry  44 

For  your  displeasure;  but  all  will  soon  be  well. 

The  general  and  his  wife  are  talking  of  it, 

And  she  speaks  for  you  stoutly:  the  Moor  replies 
That  he  you  hurt  is  of  great  fame  in  Cyprus  48 

And  great  affinity,  and  that  in  wholesome  wisdom 
He  might  not  but  refuse  you ; but  he  protests  he  loves 
you. 

And  needs  no  other  suitor  but  his  likings 

To  take  the  saf’st  occasion  by  the  front  62 

To  bring  you  in  again. 

Cas.  Yet,  I beseech  you, 

If  you  think  fit,  or  that  it  may  be  done. 

Give  me  advantage  of  some  brief  discourse 
With  Desdemona  alone. 

Emil.  Pray  you,  come  in:  68 

I will  bestow  you  where  you  shall  have  time 
To  speak  your  bosom  freely. 

Cas.  I am  much  bound  to  you. 

[. Exeunt .] 


Scene  Two 

[A  Room  in  the  Castle ] 

Enter  Othello,  Iago,  and  Gentlemen. 

Oth.  These  letters  give,  Iago,  to  the  pilot. 
And  by  him  do  my  duties  to  the  senate; 


43  Florentine;  cf.  n. 

49  affinity : family  connection 
58  bosom:  private  thoughts  and  feelings 


45  displeasure:  loss  of  favor 
52  Cf.  n. 


58 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


That  done,  I will  be  walking  on  the  works ; 

Repair  there  to  me. 

Iago.  Well,  my  good  lord,  I’ll  do ’t.  4 

Oth.  This  fortification,  gentlemen,  shall  we  see’t? 
Gent.  We’ll  wait  upon  your  lordship.  Exeunt. 

Scene  Three 

[27ie  garden  of  the  Castle ] 

Enter  Desdemona,  Cassio,  and  Emilia. 

Des.  Be  thou  assur’d,  good  Cassio,  I will  do 
All  my  abilities  in  thy  behalf. 

Emil.  Good  madam,  do:  I warrant  it  grieves  my 
husband, 

As  if  the  case  were  his.  4 

Des.  O ! that’s  an  honest  fellow.  Do  not  doubt, 
Cassio, 

But  I will  have  my  lord  and  you  again 
As  friendly  as  you  were. 

Cas.  Bounteous  madam, 

Whatever  shall  become  of  Michael  Cassio,  8 

He’s  never  anything  but  your  true  servant. 

Des.  I know ’t;  I thank  you.  You  do  love  my  lord; 
You  have  known  him  long;  and  be  you  well  assur’d 
He  shall  in  strangeness  stand  no  further  off  12 

Than  in  a politic  distance. 

Cas.  Ay,  but,  lady, 

That  policy  may  either  last  so  long, 

Or  feed  upon  such  nice  and  waterish  diet, 

Or  breed  itself  so  out  of  circumstance,  16 

That,  I being  absent  and  my  place  supplied, 

My  general  will  forget  my  love  and  service. 


12  strangeness:  estrangement 

IS  nice:  finical  waterish:  watered,  thin 


14-16  Cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  III.  Hi 


59 


Des.  Do  not  doubt  that;  before  Emilia  here 
I give  thee  warrant  of  thy  place.  Assure  thee,  20 
If  I do  vow  a friendship,  I’ll  perform  it 
To  the  last  article ; my  lord  shall  never  rest ; 

I’ll  watch  him  tame,  and  talk  him  out  of  patience; 

His  bed  shall  seem  a school,  his  board  a shrift;  24 

I’ll  intermingle  everything  he  does 

With  Cassio’s  suit.  Therefore  be  merry,  Cassio; 

For  thy  solicitor  shall  rather  die 

Than  give  thy  cause  away.  28 

Enter  Othello  and  Iago  [ at  a distance ]. 

Emil.  Madam,  here  comes  my  lord. 

Cas.  Madam,  I’ll  take  my  leave. 

Des.  Why,  stay,  and  hear  me  speak. 

Cas.  Madam,  not  now;  I am  very  ill  at  ease. 

Unfit  for  mine  own  purposes.  33 

Des.  Well,  do  your  discretion.  Exit  Cassio. 

Iago.  Ha ! I like  not  that. 

Oth.  What  dost  thou  say? 

I'lgo.  Nothing,  my  lord:  or  if — I know  not 
what.  36 

Oth.  Was  not  that  Cassio  parted  from  my  wife? 
Iago.  Cassio,  my  lord?  No,  sure,  I cannot  think  it 
That  he  would  steal  away  so  guilty-like. 

Seeing  you  coming. 

Oth.  I do  believe  ’twas  he.  40 

Des.  How  now,  my  lord ! 

I have  been  talking  with  a suitor  here, 

A man  that  languishes  in  your  displeasure. 

Oth.  Who  is ’t  you  mean?  44 

Des.  Why,  your  lieutenant,  Cassio.  Good  my  lord, 

19  doubt:  fear  23  watch  him  tame;  cf.  n.  24  shrift:  confessional 
34  do  . . . discretion:  do  what  seems  to  you  discreet 


60 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


If  I have  any  grace  or  power  to  move  you. 

His  present  reconciliation  take; 

For  if  he  be  not  one  that  truly  loves  you,  48 

That  errs  in  ignorance  and  not  in  cunning, 

I have  no  judgment  in  an  honest  face. 

I prithee  call  him  back. 

Oth.  Went  he  hence  now? 

Des.  Ay,  sooth;  so  humbled,  52 

That  he  hath  left  part  of  his  grief  with  me, 

To  suffer  with  him.  Good  love,  call  him  back. 

Oth.  Not  now,  sweet  Desdemona;  some  other  time. 
Des.  But  shall ’t  be  shortly? 

Oth.  The  sooner,  sweet,  for  you.  56 

Des.  Shall ’t  be  to-night  at  supper  ? 

Oth.  No,  not  to-night. 

Des.  To-morrow  dinner  then? 

Oth.  I shall  not  dine  at  home; 

I meet  the  captains  at  the  citadel. 

Des.  Why  then,  to-morrow  night;  or  Tuesday 
morn ; 60 

On  Tuesday  noon,  or  night;  on  Wednesday  morn: 

I prithee  name  the  time,  but  let  it  not 
Exceed  three  days:  in  faith,  he’s  penitent; 

And  yet  his  trespass,  in  our  common  reason, — 

Save  that  they  say,  the  wars  must  make  examples  65 
Out  of  their  best, — is  not  almost  a fault 
To  incur  a private  check.  When  shall  he  come  ? 

Tell  me,  Othello:  I wonder  in  my  soul,  68 

What  you  could  ask  me  that  I should  deny, 

Or  stand  so  mammering  on.  What ! Michael  Cassio. 
That  came  a wooing  with  you,  and  so  many  a time. 

When  I have  spoke  of  you  dispraisingly,  72 


66  not  almost:  almost  not,  scarcely 


70  mammering:  hesitating 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  III.  Hi 


61 


Hath^ta’en  yourjD&EkLtoJiave  so  much  to  do 
To  bringHmin  ! T rust  me,  I could  dcTmuch — 

Oth.  Prithee,  no  more;  let  him  come  when  he  will; 
I will  deny  thee  nothing. 

Des.  Why,  this  is  not  a boon; 

’Tis  as  I should  entreat  you  wear  your  gloves. 

Or  feed  on  nourishing  dishes,  or  keep  you  warm, 

Or  sue  to  you  to  do  a peculiar  profit 
To  your  own  person;  nay,  when  I have  a suit 
Wherein  I mean  to  touch  your  love  indeed. 

It  shall  be  full  of  poise  and  difficult  weight. 

And  fearful  to  be  granted. 


76 


80 


Oth.  I will  deny  thee  nothing: 

Whereon,  I do  beseech  thee,  grant  me  this,  84 

To  leave  me  but  a little  to  myself. 

Des.  Shall  I deny  you?  no:  farewell,  my  lord. 

Oth.  Farewell,  my  Desdemona:  I’ll  come  to  thee 
straight. 

Des.  Emilia,  come.  Be  as  your  fancies  teach 
you ; 88 

Whate’er  you  be,  I am  obedient. 


Exit  [ with  Emilia ]. 

Oth.  Excellent  wretch  ! Perdition  catch  my  soul 
But  I do  love  thee ! and  when  I love  thee  not. 

Chaos  is  come  again.  92 

Iago.  My  noble  lord, — 

Oth.  What  dost  thou  say,  Iago? 

(~  Iago.  Did  Michael  Cassio,  when  you  woo’d  my 
lady, 

Know  of  your  love?  j 

Oth.  He  did,  from  first  to  last:  why  dost  thou 
ask?  96 


74  in:  into  favor  82  poise:  equipoise,  uncertainty 

90  wretch:  expression  of  utmost  fondness 


62 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Iago.  But  for  a satisfaction  of  my  thought; 

No  further  harm. 

Oth.  Why  of  thy  thought,  Iago? 

Iago.  I did  not  think  he  had  been  acquainted  with 
her. 

Oth.  O!  yes;  and  went  between  us  very  oft. 

Iago.  Indeed!  101 

Oth.  Indeed!  ay,  indeed;  discern’st  thou  aught  in 
that  ? 

/is  he  not  honest ?j 

Iago.  Honest,  my  lord? 

Oth.  Honest!  ay,  honest. 

Iago.  My  lord,  for  aught  I know.  104 

Oth.  What  dost  thou  think? 

Iago.  Think,  my  lord! 

Oth.  Think,  my  lord! 

By  heaven,  he  echoes  me, 

As  if  there  were  some  monster  in  his  thought 
Too  hideous  to  be  shown.  Thou  dost  mean  some- 
thing: 108 

I heard  thee  say  but  now,  thou  lik’dst  not  that, 
[jWhen  Cassio  left  my  wife;lwhat  didst  not  like? 

And  when  I told  thee  he  was  of  my  counsel 
In  my  whole  course  of  wooing,  thou  criedst, 

‘Indeed!’  112 

And  didst  contract  and  purse  thy  brow  together, 

As  if  thou  then  hadst  shut  up  in  thy  brain 
Some  horrible  conceit.  If  thou  dost  love  me, 

Show  me  thy  thought.  lie 

Iago.  My  lord,  you  know  I love  you. 

Oth.  I think  thou  dost; 

And,  for  I know  thou  art  full  of  love  and  honesty. 


111  of  my  counsel : in  my  confidence 


115  conceit:  idea 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  III.  Hi 


63 


And  weigh’st  thy  words  before  thou  giv’st  them 
breath, 

Therefore  these  stops  of  thine  fright  me  the 
more ; 120 

For  such  things  in  a false  disloyal  knave 
Are  tricks  of  custom,  but  in  a man  that’s  just 
They  are  close  delations,  working  from  the  heart 
That  passion  cannot  rule. 

I ago.  For  Michael  Cassio,  124 

I dare  be  sworn  I think  that  he  is  honest. 

Oth.  I think  so  too. 

lago.  Men  should  be  what  they  seem; 

Or  those  that  be  not,  would  they  might  seem  none ! 
Oth.  Certain,  men  should  be  what  they  seem. 

Iago.  Why  then,  I_  think  Cassio’s  an  _honest 
man.  129 

Oth.  Nay,  yet  there’s  more  in  this. 

I pray  thee,  speak  to  me  as  to  thy  thinkings. 

As  thou  dost  ruminate,  and  give  thy  worst  of 
thoughts  132 

The  worst  of  words. 

Iago.  Good  my  lord,  pardon  me; 

Though  I am  bound  to  every  act  of  duty, 

I am  not  bound  to  that  all  slaves  are  free  to. 

Utter  my  thoughts?  Why,  say  they  are  vile  and 
false ; 136 

As  where’s  that  palace  whereinto  foul  things 
Sometimes  intrude  not?  who  has  a breast  so  pure 
But  some  uncleanly  apprehensions 
Keep  leets  and  law-days,  and  in  session  sit  140 

With  meditations  lawful? 

120  stops:  pauses , reticences  122  tricks  of  custom:  customary  tricks 

123  close  delations:  covert , involuntary  accusations 

139  But:  but  therein 

140  leets:  synonymous  with  * law-days' ’ (keep  leet:  hold  court') 


64 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


Oth.  Thou  dost  conspire  against  thy  friend,  Iago, 
If  thou  but  think’st  him  wrong’d,  and  mak’st  his  ear 
A stranger  to  thy  thoughts. 

Iago.  I do  beseech  you,  144 

Though  I perchance  am  vicious  in  my  guess, — 

As,  I confess,  it  is  my  nature’s  plague 
To  spy  into  abuses,  and  oft  my  jealousy 
Shapes  faults  that  are  not, — that  your  wisdom 
yet,  148 

From  one  that  so  imperfectly  conceits, 

Would  take  no  notice,  nor  build  yourself  a trouble 
Out  of  his  scattering  and  unsure  observance. 

It  were  not  for  your  quiet  nor  your  good,  152 

Nor  for  my  manhood,  honesty,  or  wisdom, 

To  let  you  know  my  thoughts. 

Oth.  What  dost  thou  mean? 

Iago.  Good  name  in  man  and  woman,  dear  my  lord, 
Is  the  immediate  jewel  of  their  souls:  156 

Who  steals  my  purse  steals  trash;  ’tis  something, 
nothing ; 

'Twas  mine,  ’tis  his,  and  has  been  slave  to  thousands ; 
But  he  that  filches  from  me  my  good  name 
Robs  me  of  that  which  not  enriches  him,  160 

And  makes  me  poor  indeed. 

Oth.  By  heaven,  I’ll  know  thy  thoughts. 

Iago.  You  cannot,  if  my  heart  were  in  your  hand; 
Nor  shall  not,  whilst  ’tis  in  my  custody.  164 

Oth.  Ha! 

Iago.  QJ.  beware,  myjord,  of  jealousy; 

1 1 is  the  green-ey’d  monster  which  doth  mock 
The  meat  it  feeds  on:  that  cuckold  lives  in  bliss 
Who*  certain  of  his  fate,  loves  not  his  wronger ; 

145  Though:  supposing,  granting  that  vicious:  wrong 

149  conceits:  imagines  151  scattering:  random 

166,  167  mock  . . . feeds  on:  tantalizes  its  victim 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  III.  Hi 


65 


But,  O ! what  damned  minutes  tells  he  o’er  169 

Who  dotes,  yet  doubts ; suspects,  yet  strongly  loves ! 
Oth.  O misery ! 

I ago.  Poor  and  content  is  rich,  and  rich 
enough,  172 

But  riches  fineless  is  as  poor  as  winter 
To  him  that  ever  fears  he  shall  be  poor. 

Good  heaven,  the  souls  of  all  my  tribe  defend 
From  jealousy. 

Oth.  Why,  why  is  this?  176 

Think’st  thou  I’d  make  a life  of  jealousy. 

To  follow  still  the  changes  of  the  moon 
With  fresh  suspicions?  No;  to  be  once  in  doubt 
Is  once  to  be  resolv’d.  Exchange  me  for  a goat 
When  I shall  turn  the  business  of  my  soul  181 

To  such  exsufflicate  and  blown  surmises. 

Matching  thy  inference.  ’Tis  not  to  make  me  jealous 
To  say  my  wife  is  fair,  feeds  well,  loves  com- 
pany, 184 

Is  free  of  speech,  sings,  plays,  and  dances  well; 
Where  virtue  is,  these  are  more  virtuous: 

Nor  from  mine  own  weak  merits  will  I draw 

The  smallest  fear,  or  doubt  of  her  revolt;  188 

For  she  had  eyes,  and  chose  me.  No,  Iago; 

I’ll  see  before  I doubt ; when  I doubt,  prove ; 

And,  on  the  proof,  there  is  no  more  but  this. 

Away  at  once  with  love  or  j ealousy ! 192 

Iago.  I am  glad  of  it ; for  now  I shall  have  reason 
To  show  the  love  and  duty  that  I bear  you 
With  franker  spirit;  therefore,  as  I am  bound, 
Receive  it  from  me ; I speak  not  yet  of  proof.  196 
Look  to  your  wife ; observe  her  well  with  Cassio  ; 

173  fineless:  endless  180  resolv’ d:  freed  from  uncertainty 

182  exsufflicate:  puffed  up,  empty 


66 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Wear  your  eye  thus,  not  jealous  nor  secure: 

I would  not  have  your  free  and  noble  nature 

Out  of  self-bounty  be  abus’d;  look  to’t:  200 

I know  our  country  disposition  well; 

In  Venice  they  do  let  heaven  see  the  pranks 
They  dare  not  show  their  husbands;  their  best  con- 
science 

Is  not  to  leave ’t  undone,  but  keep ’t  unknown. 

Oth.  Dost  thou  say  so?  205 

I ago.  She  did  deceive  her  father,  marrying  you: 
And  when  she  seem’d  to  shake  and  fear  your  looks. 
She  lov’d  them  most. 

Oth.  And  so  she  did. 

I ago.  Why,  go  to,  then ; 20S 

She  that  so  young  could  give  out  such  a seeming, 

To  seel  her  father’s  eyes  up  close  as  oak, 

He  thought  ’twas  witchcraft — but  I am  much  to 
blame : 

I humbly  do  beseech  you  of  your  pardon  212 

For  too  much  loving  you. 

Oth.  I am  bound  to  thee  for  ever. 

Iago.  I see,  this  hath  a little  dash’d  your  spirits. 
Oth.  Not  a jot,  not  a jot. 

Iago.  I’  faith,  I fear  it  has. 

I hope  you  will  consider  what  is  spoke  216 

Comes  from  my  love.  But,  I do  see  you’re  mov’d; 

I am  to  pray  you  not  to  strain  my  speech 
To  grosser  issues  nor  to  larger  reach 
Than  to  suspicion.  220 

Oth.  I will  not. 

Iago.  Should  you  do  so,  my  lord, 

My  speech  should  fall  into  such  vile  success 


2n0  self-bounty:  inherent  generosity 
201  country : native,  national 


222  success:  consequences 


The  Moor  of  Venice , III.  in 


67 


As  my  thoughts  aim  not  at.  Cassio’s  my  worthy 
friend — 

My  lord,  I see  you’re  mov’d. 

Oth.  No,  not  much  mov’d:  224 

I do  not  think  but  Desdemona’s  honest. 

Iago.  Long  live  she  so ! and  long  live  you  to  think 
so ! 

Oth.  And,  yet,  how  nature  erring  from  itself, — 
Iago.  Ay,  there’s  the  point:  as,  to  be  bold  with 
you,  228 

Not  to  affect  many  proposed  matches 
Of  her  own  clime,  complexion,  and  degree, 

Whereto,  we  see,  in  all  things  nature  tends ; 

Foh ! one  may  smell  in  such,  a will  most  rank. 

Foul  disproportion,  thoughts  unnatural.  233 

But  pardon  me;  I do  not  in  position 
Distinctly  speak  of  her,  though  I may  fear 
Her  will,  recoiling  to  her  better  judgment,  236 

May  fall  to  match  you  with  her  country  forms 
And  happily  repent. 

Oth.  Farewell,  farewell: 

If  more  thou  dost  perceive,  let  me  know  more; 

Set  on  thy  wife  to  observe.  Leave  me,  Iago.  240 
Iago.  My  lord,  I take  my  leave.  [Going.] 

Oth.  Why  did  I marry?  This  honest  creature, 
doubtless, 

Sees  and  knows  more,  much  more,  than  he  unfolds. 
Iago.  [ Returning .]  My  lord,  I would  I might 
entreat  your  honour  244 

To  scan  this  thing  no  further;  leave  it  to  time. 
Although  ’tis  fit  that  Cassio  have  his  place. 

For  sure  he  fills  it  up  with  great  ability, 


225  honest:  virtuous 

236  recoiling  to:  falling  bacR  upon 

237  fall:  chance,  begin 


234  position:  formal  logical  thesis 
238  happily : perhaps 


68 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Yet,  if  you  please  to  hold  him  off  awhile,  248 

You  shall  by  that  perceive  him  and  his  means: 

Note  if  your  lady  strain  his  entertainment 
With  any  strong  or  vehement  importunity; 

Much  will  be  seen  in  that.  In  the  mean  time,  252 
Let  me  be  thought  too  busy  in  my  fears, 

As  worthy  cause  I have  to  fear  I am, 

And  hold  her  free,  I do  beseech  your  honour. 

Oth.  Fear  not  my  government.  250 

Iago.  I once  more  take  my  leave.  Exit. 

Oth.  This  fellow’s  of  exceeding  honesty. 

And  knows  all  qualities,  with  a learned  spirit, 

Of  human  dealings ; if  I do  prove  her  haggard, 
Though  that  her  jesses  were  my  dear  heart- 
strings, 261 

I’d  whistle  her  off  and  let  her  down  the  wind. 

To  prey  at  fortune.  Haply,  for  I am  black. 

And  have  not  those  soft  parts  of  conversation 

That  chamberers  have,  or,  for  I am  declin’d  265 

Into  the  vale  of  years — yet  that’s  not  much — 

She’s  gone,  I am  abus’d;  and  my  relief 

Must  be  to  loathe  her.  O curse  of  marriage!  208 

That  we  can  call  these  delicate  creatures  ours. 

And  not  their  appetites.  I had  rather  be  a toad, 

And  live  upon  the  vapour  of  a dungeon, 

Than  keep  a corner  in  the  thing  I love  272 

For  others’  uses.  Yet,  ’tis  the  plague  of  great  ones; 
Prerogativ’d  are  they  less  than  the  base; 

’Tis  destiny  unshunnable,  like  death: 

250  strain  his  entertainment:  urge  his  reinstatement 
256  government:  behavior 

259,260  knows  . . . Of:  understands,  learnedly,  all  kinds  of 
260-263  Cf.  n. 

264  soft  . . . conversation:  effeminate  talents  in  social  intercourse 

265  chamberers:  wanton  courtiers 
274  Prerogativ’d:  privileged,  protected 


The  Moor  of  V enice.  III.  Hi 


69 


Even  then  this  forked  plague  is  fated  to  us  276 

When  we  do  quicken. 

Look ! where  she  comes. 

If  she  be  false,  O ! then  heaven  mocks  itself. 

I’ll  not  believe  it. 

Enter  Desdemona  and  Emilia. 

Des.  How  now,  my  dear  Othello ! 

Your  dinner  and  the  generous  islanders  280 

By  you  invited,  do  attend  your  presence. 

Oth.  I am  to  blame. 

Des.  Why  do  you  speak  so  faintly? 

Are  you  not  well? 

Oth.  I have  a pain  upon  my  forehead  here.  284 
Des.  Faith,  that’s  with  watching;  ’twill  away 
again : 

Let  me  but  bind  it  hard,  within  this  hour 
It  will  be  well. 

Oth.  Your  napkin  is  too  little: 

[He  puts  the  handkerchief  from  him;  and  it  drops.~\ 
Let  it  alone.  Come,  I’ll  go  in  with  you.  288 

Des.  I am  very  sorry  that  you  are  not  well. 

Exeunt  Othello  and  Desdemona. 
Emil.  I am  glad  I have  found  this  napkin; 

This  was  her  first  remembrance  from  the  Moor; 

My  wayward  husband  hath  a hundred  times  292 

Woo’d  me  to  steal  it,  but  she  so  loves  the  token, 

For  he  conjur’d  her  she  should  ever  keep  it. 

That  she  reserves  it  evermore  about  her 
To  kiss  and  talk  to.  I’ll  have  the  work  ta’en  out. 

And  give ’t  Iago:  297 

276  forked  plague:  cuckold’s  horns 

277  When  . . . quicken : in  prenatal  life 

280  generous:  noble,  of  gentle  birth  285  watching:  lack  of  sleep 

287  napkin:  handkerchief  296  work  ta’en  out:  embroidery  copied 


70 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


What  he  will  do  with  it  heaven  knows,  not  I ; 

I nothing  but  to  please  his  fantasy. 

Enter  Iago. 

I ago.  How  now ! what  do  you  here  alone  ? 300 

Emil.  Do  not  you  chide;  I have  a thing  for  you. 
Iago.  A thing  for  me?  It  is  a common  thing — 
Emil.  Ha ! 

Iago.  To  have  a foolish  wife.  304 

Emil.  O!  is  that  all?  What  will  you  give  me  now 
For  that  same  handkerchief? 

Iago.  What  handkerchief? 

Emil.  What  handkerchief! 

Why,  that  the  Moor  first  gave  to  Desdemona: 

That  which  so  often  you  did  bid  me  steal.  309 

Iago.  Hast  stol’n  it  from  her? 

Emil.  No,  faith;  she  let  it  drop  by  negligence. 
And,  to  the  advantage,  I,  being  there,  took ’t  up. 

Look,  here  it  is. 

Iago.  A good  wench ; give  it  me.  313 

Emil.  What  will  you  do  with ’t,  that  you  have  been 
so  earnest 

To  have  me  filch  it? 

Iago.  Why,  [ Snatching  if]  what’s  that  to  you? 
Emil.  If  it  be  not  for  some  purpose  of  import  317 
Give ’t  me  again;  poor  lady!  she’ll  run  mad 
When  she  shall  lack  it. 

Iago.  Be  not  acknown  on ’t;  I have  use  for  it.  320 
Go,  leave  me.  Exit  Emilia. 

I will  in  Cassio’s  lodging  lose  this  napkin. 

And  let  him  find  it;  trifles  light  as  air 

Are  to  the  jealous  confirmations  strong  324 

As  proofs  of  holy  writ;  this  may  do  something. 


320  Be  . . . on’t:  avouch  no  knowledge  of  it 


The  Moor  of  V enice.  III.  Hi 


71 


The  Moor  already  changes  with  my  poison:  Sli* 
Dangerous  conceits  are  in  their  natures  poisons, 

Which  at  the  first  are  scarce  found  to  distaste. 

But  with  a little  act  upon  the  blood,  329 

Burn  like  the  mines  of  sulphur.  I did  say  so: 

Look ! where  he  comes  ! 

Enter  Othello. 

Not  poppy,  nor  mandragora, 
Nor  all  the  drowsy  syrups  of  the  world,  332 

Shall  ever  medicine  thee  to  that  sweet  sleep 
Which  thou  ow’dst  yesterday. 

Oth.  Ha!  ha!  false  to  me? 

lago.  Why,  how  now,  general ! no  more  of  that. 
Oth.  Avaunt!  be  gone!  thou  hast  set  me  on  the 
rack;  336 

I swear  ’tis  better  to  be  much  abus’d 
Than  but  to  know ’t  a little. 

Iago.  How  now,  my  lord ! 

Oth.  What  sense  had  I of  her  stol’n  hours  of 
lust  ? 339 

I saw ’t  not,  thought  it  not,  it  harm’d  not  me ; 

I slept  the  next  night  well,  was  free  and  merry ; 

I found  not  Cassio’s  kisses  on  her  lips; 

He  that  is  robb’d,  not  wanting  what  is  stol’n. 

Let  him  not  know ’t  and  he’s  not  robb’d  at  all. 

Iago.  I am  sorry  to  hear  this.  345 

Oth.  I had  been  happy,  if  the  general  camp, 
Pioners  and  all,  had  tasted  her  sweet  body. 

So  I had  nothing  known.  O ! now,  for  ever  348 

Farewell  the  tranquil  mind;  farewell  content! 
Farewell  the  plumed  troop  and  the  big  wars 


331  mandragora:  mandrake,  a narcotic 

343  wanting:  missing  347  Pioners : miners,  military  menials 


72 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


That  make  ambition  virtue ! O,  farewell ! 

Farewell  the  neighing  steed,  and  the  shrill 
trump,  352 

The  spirit-stirring  drum,  the  ear-piercing  fife, 

The  royal  banner,  and  all  quality, 

Pride,  pomp,  and  circumstance  of  glorious  war! 

And,  O you  mortal  engines,  whose  rude  throats 
The  immortal  Jove’s  dread  clamours  counterfeit,  357 
Farewell!  Othello’s  occupation’s  gone! 

I ago.  Is  it  possible,  my  lord? 

Oth.  Villain,  be  sure  thou  prove  my  love  a 
whore,  360 

Be  sure  of  it;  give  me  the  ocular  proof; 

Or,  by  the  worth  of  mine  eternal  soul. 

Thou  hadst  been  better  have  been  born  a dog 
Than  answer  my  wak’d  wrath. 

I ago.  Is ’t  come  to  this? 

Oth.  Make  me  to  see’t;  or,  at  the  least,  so  prove 
it,  365 

That  the  probation  bear  no  hinge  nor  loop 
To  hang  a doubt  on;  or  woe  upon  thy  life! 

Iago.  My  noble  lord, — 36S 

Oth.  If  thou  dost  slander  her  and  torture  me. 
Never  pray  more;  abandon  all  remorse; 

On  horror’s  head  horrors  accumulate; 

Do  deeds  to  make  heaven  weep,  all  earth  amaz’d;  372 
For  nothing  canst  thou  to  damnation  add 
Greater  than  that. 

Iago.  O grace ! O heaven  forgive  me ! 

Are  you  a man ! have  you  a soul  or  sense? 

God  be  wi’  you ; take  mine  office.  O wretched 
fool ! 376 

355  circumstance:  ceremony  356  engines:  cannon 

366  probation:  proof  hinge  nor  loop:  pivot  nor  strap 


The  3Ioor  of  Venice,  III.  in 


78 


That  liv’st  to  make  thine  honesty  a vice. 

0 monstrous  world!  Take  note,  take  note,  O world! 
To  be  direct  and  honest  is  not  safe. 

1 thank  you  for  this  profit,  and,  from  hence  380 
I’ll  love  no  friend,  sith  love  breeds  such  offence. 

Oth.  Nay,  stay;  thou  shouldst  be  honest. 

Iago.  I should  be  wise;  for  honesty’s  a fool. 

And  loses  that  it  works  for. 

Oth.  By  the  world,  384 

I think  my  wife  be  honest  and  think  she  is  not ; 

I think  that  thou  art  just  and  think  thou  art  not. 

I’ll  have  some  proof.  Her  name,  that  was  as  fresh 
As  Dian’s  visage,  is  now  begrim’d  and  black  388 

As  mine  own  face.  If  there  be  cords  or  knives. 
Poison  or  fire  or  suffocating  streams, 

I’ll  not  endure  it.  Would  I were  satisfied! 

Iago.  I see,  sir,  you  are  eaten  up  with  passion.  392 
I do  repent  me  that  I put  it  to  you. 

You  would  be  satisfied? 

Oth.  Would!  nay,  I will. 

Iago.  And  may;  but  how?  how  satisfied,  my  lord? 
Would  you,  the  supervisor,  grossly  gape  on;  396 

Behold  her  tupp’d? 

Oth.  Death  and  damnation ! O ! 

Iago.  It  were  a tedious  difficulty,  I think. 

To  bring  them  to  that  prospect;  damn  them  then. 

If  ever  mortal  eyes  do  see  them  bolster  400 

More  than  their  own  ! What  then  ? how  then  ? 

What  shall  I say?  Where’s  satisfaction? 

It  .is  impossible  you  should  see  this, 

Were  they  as  prime  as  goats,  as  hot  as  monkeys. 

As  salt  as  wolves  in  pride,  and  fools  as  gross  405 


380  profit:  profitable  lesson 
400  bolster:  bed  ( together ) 


381  sith:  since 


387  Her;  cf.  n. 
404  prime:  ardent 


74 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello , ' 


As  ignorance  made  drunk ; but  yet,  I say, 

If  imputation,  and  strong  circumstances, 

Which  lead  directly  to  the  door  of  truth,  408 

Will  give  you  satisfaction,  you  may  have  it, 

Oth.  Give  me  a living  reason  she’s  disloyal. 

Iago.  I do  not  like  the  office; 

But,  sith  I am  enter’d  in  this  cause  so  far,  412 

Prick’d  to ’t  by  foolish  honesty  and  love, 

I will  go  on.  I lay  with  Cassio  lately; 

And,  being  troubled  with  a raging  tooth, 

I could  not  sleep.  416 

There  are  a kind  of  men  so  loose  of  soul 
That  in  their  sleeps  will  mutter  their  affairs; 

One  of  this  kind  is  Cassio. 

In  sleep  I heard  him  say,  ‘Sweet  Desdemona,  420 
Let  us  be  wary,  let  us  hide  our  loves !’ 

And  then,  sir,  would  he  gripe  and  wring  my  hand. 
Cry,  ‘O,  sweet  creature !’  and  then  kiss  me  hard, 

As  if  he  pluck’d  up  kisses  by  the  roots,  424 

That  grew  upon  my  lips ; then  laid  his  leg 
Over  my  thigh,  and  sigh’d,  and  kiss’d ; and  then 
Cried,  ‘Cursed  fate,  that  gave  thee  to  the  Moor !’ 

Oth.  O monstrous  ! monstrous  ! 

Iago.  Nay,  this  was  but  his  dream. 

Oth.  But  this  denoted  a foregone  conclusion:  420 
’Tis  a shrewd  doubt,  though  it  be  but  a dream. 

Iago.  And  this  may  help  to  thicken  other  proofs 
That  do  demonstrate  thinly. 

Oth.  I’ll  tear  her  all  to  pieces.  432 

Iago.  Nay,  but  be  wise ; yet  we  see  nothing  done ; 

407  imputation  . . . circumstances:  opinion  based  on  strong  circum- 
stantial evidence 
410  living:  real,  not  sham 

429  a . . . conclusion : a previous  experience 

430  shrewd  doubt:  ground  for  dire  suspicion 


The  Moor  of  V enice.  III.  in 


75 


She  may  be  honest  yet.  Tell  me  but  this: 

Have  you  not  sometimes  seen  a handkerchief 
Spotted  with  strawberries  in  your  wife’s  hand? 

Oth.  I gave  her  such  a one;  ’twas  my  first  gift.  437 
Iago.  I know  not  that;  but  such  a handkerchief — 
I am  sure  it  was  your  wife’s— did  I to-day 
See  Cassio  wipe  his  beard  with. 

Oth.  If  it  be  that, — 440 

Iago.  If  it  be  that,  or  any  that  was  hers. 

It  speaks  against  her  with  the  other  proofs. 

Oth.  O!  that  the  slave  had  forty  thousand  lives; 
One  is  too  poor,  too  weak  for  my  revenge.  444 

Now  do  I see  ’tis  true.  Look  here,  Iago; 

All  my  fond  love  thus  do  I blow  to  heaven : 

’Tis  gone.  447 

Arise,  black  vengeance,  from  the  hollow  hell! 

Yield  up,  O love ! thy  crown  and  hearted  throne 
To  tyrannous  hate.  Swell,  bosom,  with  thy  fraught. 
For  ’tis  of  aspics’  tongues! 

Iago.  Yet  be  content. 

Oth.  O ! blood,  blood,  blood ! 452 

Iago.  Patience,  I say;  your  mind,  perhaps,  may 
change. 

Oth.  Never,  Iago.  Like  to  the  Pontic  sea, 

Whose  icy  current  and  compulsive  course 

Ne’er  feels  retiring  ebb,  but  keeps  due  on  456 

To  the  Propontic  and  the  Hellespont, 

Even  so  my  bloody  thoughts,  with  violent  pace. 

Shall  ne’er  look  back,  ne’er  ebb  to  humble  love. 

Till  that  a capable  and  wide  revenge  460 

Swallow  them  up.  [Kneels.'] 

Now,  by  yond  marble  heaven. 


450  fraught:  freight,  burden  451  aspics asps’ , venomous  snakes* 

454-461  Cf.n.  460  capable : comprehensive  461  marble:  shining 


76 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


In  the  due  reverence  of  a sacred  vow 
I here  engage  my  words. 

Iago.  Do  not  rise  yet.  Kneels. 

Witness,  you  ever-burning  lights  above!  464 

You  elements  that  clip  us  round  about! 

Witness,  that  here  Iago  doth  give  up 
The  execution  of  his  wit,  hands,  heart. 

To  wrong’d  Othello’s  service!  Let  him  com- 
mand, 468 

And  to  obey  shall  be  in  me  remorse, 

What  bloody  business  ever.  [They  rise.] 

Oth.  I greet  thy  love, 

Not  with  vain  thanks,  but  with  acceptance  bounteous, 
And  will  upon  the  instant  put  thee  to ’t:  472 

Within  these  three  days  let  me  hear  thee  say 
That  Cassio’s  not  alive. 

Iago.  My  friend  is  dead;  ’tis  done  at  your  request; 
But  let  her  live. 

Oth.  Damn  her,  lewd  minx ! O,  damn  her ! 

Come,  go  with  me  apart ; I will  withdraw  477 

To  furnish  me  with  some  swift  means  of  death 
For  the  fair  devil.  Now  art  thou  my  lieutenant. 
Iago.  I am  your  own  for  ever.  Exeunt. 

Scene  Four 
[Before  the  Castle ] 

Enter  Desdemona,  Emilia,  and  Clown. 

Des.  Do  you  know,  sirrah,  where  Lieutenant 
Cassio  lies? 

Clo.  I dare  not  say  he  lies  anywhere. 

Des.  Why,  man?  4 


465  clip:  embrace,  enclose 
467  execution:  exercise 


469  remorse:  conscience 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  III.  iv 


77 


Clo.  He  is  a soldier;  and  for  one  to  say  a 
soldier  lies,  is  stabbing. 

Des.  Go  to;  where  lodges  he? 

Clo.  To  tell  you  where  he  lodges  is  to  tell  you 
where  I lie.  9 

Des.  Can  anything  be  made  of  this? 

Clo.  I know  not  where  he  lodges,  and  for  me 
to  devise  a lodging,  and  say  he  lies  here  or  he 
lies  there,  were  to  lie  in  mine  own  throat.  13 

Des.  Can  you  inquire  him  out,  and  be  edified 
by  report? 

Clo.  I will  catechize  the  world  for  him;  that 
is,  make  questions,  and  by  them  answer.  17 

Des.  Seek  him,  bid  him  come  hither;  tell 
him  I have  moved  my  lord  in  his  behalf,  and 
hope  all  will  be  well.  20 

Clo.  To  do  this  is  within  the  compass  of 
man’s  wit,  and  therefore  I will  attempt  the 
doing  it.  Exit  Clown. 

Des.  Where  should  I lose  that  handkerchief, 
Emilia  ? 24 

Emil.  I know  not,  madam. 

Des.  Believe  me,  I had  rather  have  lost  my  purse 
Full  of  cruzadoes ; and,  but  my  noble  Moor 
Is  true  of  mind,  and  made  of  no  such  baseness  28 
As  jealous  creatures  are,  it  were  enough 
To  put  him  to  ill  thinking. 

Emil.  Is  he  not  jealous? 

Des.  Who ! he  ? I think  the  sun  where  he  was 
born 

Drew  all  such  humours  from  him. 

Emil.  Look ! where  he  comes. 


27  cruzadoes:  Portuguese  gold  coins 


78 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Des.  I will  not  leave  him  now  till  Cassio  33 

Be  call’d  to  him. 

Enter  Othello. 

How  is ’t  with  you,  my  lord? 

Oth.  Well,  my  good  lady.  [ Aside .]  Oh  hardness 
to  dissemble ! — 

How  do  you,  Desdemona  ? 

Des.  Well,  my  good  lord. 

Oth.  Give  me  your  hand.  This  hand  is  moist,  my 
lady.  37 

Des.  It  yet  has  felt  no  age  nor  known  no  sorrow. 
Oth.  This  argues  fruitfulness  and  liberal  heart; 
Hot,  hot,  and  moist ; this  hand  of  yours  requires  40 
A sequester  from  liberty,  fasting  and  prayer. 

Much  castigation,  exercise  devout; 

For  here’s  a young  and  sweating  devil  here. 

That  commonly  rebels.  ’Tis  a good  hand,  44 

A frank  one. 

Des.  You  may,  indeed,  say  so; 

For  ’twas  that  hand  that  gave  away  my  heart. 

Oth.  A liberal  hand;  the  hearts  of  old  gave  hands. 
But  our  new  heraldry  is  hands  not  hearts.  48 

Des.  I cannot  speak  of  this.  Come  now,  your 
promise. 

Oth.  What  promise,  chuck? 

Des.  I have  sent  to  bid  Cassio  come  speak  with 
you. 

Oth.  I have  a salt  and  sorry  rheum  offends  me.  52 
Lend  me  thy  handkerchief. 

Des.  Here,  my  lord. 

Oth.  That  which  I gave  you. 


41  sequester : separation 

50  chuck:  chick  (term  of  endearment) 

52  sorry  rheum:  distressing  discharge  (of  eye  or  nose ) 


47,  48  Cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  V enice.  III.  iv 


79 


Des. 

Oth.  Not? 

Des.  No, 

Oth. 


I have  it  not  about  me. 


No,  indeed,  my  lord. 


That  handkerchief 


That  is  a fault. 

56 


Did  an  Egyptian  to  my  mother  give; 

She  was  a charmer,  and  could  almost  read 
The  thoughts  of  people;  she  told  her,  while  she  kept 
it, 

’Twould  make  her  amiable  and  subdue  my  father  60 

Entirely  to  her  love,  but  if  she  lost  it 

Or  made  a gift  of  it,  my  father’s  eye 

Should  hold  her  loathed,  and  his  spirits  should  hunt 

After  new  fancies.  She  dying  gave  it  me;  61 

And  bid  me,  when  my  fate  would  have  me  wive. 

To  give  it  her.  I did  so:  and  take  heed  on ’t; 

Make  it  a darling  like  your  precious  eye; 

To  lose ’t  or  give ’t  away,  were  such  perdition  68 
As  nothing  else  could  match. 

Des.  Is ’t  possible? 

Oth.  ’Tis  true;  there’s  magic  in  the  web  of  it; 

A sibyl,  that  had  number’d  in  the  world 

The  sun  to  course  two  hundred  compasses,  72 

In  her  prophetic  fury  sew’d  the  work; 

The  worms  were  hallow’d  that  did  breed  the  silk. 
And  it  was  dy’d  in  mummy  which  the  skilful 
Conserv’d  of  maidens’  hearts. 

Des.  Indeed!  is ’t  true?  76 

Oth.  Most  veritable;  therefore  look  to ’t  well. 

Des.  Then  would  to  heaven  that  I had  never  seen 
it ! 

Oth.  Ha!  wherefore? 

58  charmer:  witch  71  sibyl:  inspired  prophetess 

72  course  . . . compasses:  make  . . . revolutions 
75  mummy:  drug  made  from  embalmed  bodies 


80 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Des.  Why  do  you  speak  so  startingly  and 

rash?  80 

Oth.  Is ’t  lost?  is 't  gone?  speak,  is  it  out  o’  the 
way? 

Des.  Heaven  bless  us  ! 

Oth.  Say  you? 

Des.  It  is  not  lost:  but  what  an  if  it  were? 

Oth.  How ! 84 

Des.  I say,  it  is  not  lost. 

Oth.  Fetch ’t,  let  me  see ’t. 

Des.  Why,  so  I can,  sir,  but  I will  not  now. 

This  is  a trick  to  put  me  from  my  suit: 

Pray  you  let  Cassio  be  receiv’d  again.  88 

Oth.  Fetch  me  the  handkerchief ; my  mind  misgives. 
Des.  Come,  come; 

You’ll  never  meet  a more  sufficient  man. 

Oth.  The  handkerchief ! 

Des.  I pray,  talk  me  of  Cassio.  92 

Oth.  The  handkerchief ! 

Des.  A man  that  all  his  time 

Hath  founded  his  good  fortunes  on  your  love. 

Shar’d  dangers  with  you, — 

Oth.  The  handkerchief ! 

Des.  In  sooth  you  are  to  blame.  96 

Oth.  Away!  Exit  Othello. 

Emil.  Is  not  this  man  jealous? 

Des.  I ne’er  saw  this  before. 

Sure,  there’s  some  wonder  in  this  handkerchief ; loo 
I am  most  unhappy  in  the  loss  of  it. 

Emil.  ’Tis  not  a year  or  two  shows  us  a man; 

They  are  all  but  stomachs,  and  we  all  but  food; 

They  eat  us  hungerly,  and  when  they  are  full 
They  belch  us.  Look  you ! Cassio  and  my 
band. 


hus- 

105 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  III.  iv 


81 


Enter  Iago  and  Cassio. 

I ago.  There  is  no  other  way;  ’tis  she  must  do ’t: 
And,  lo!  the  happiness:  go  and  importune  her. 

Des.  How  now,  good  Cassio ! what’s  the  news  with 
you  ? 108 

Cas.  Madam,  my  former  suit:  I do  beseech  you 
That  by  your  virtuous  means  I may  again 
Exist,  and  be  a member  of  his  love 
Whom  I with  all  the  office  of  my  heart  112 

Entirely  honour ; I would  not  be  delay’d. 

If  my  offence  be  of  such  mortal  kind 

That  nor  my  service  past,  nor  present  sorrows, 

Nor  purpos’d  merit  in  futurity,  116 

Can  ransom  me  into  his  love  again. 

But  to  know  so  must  be  my  benefit ; 

So  shall  I clothe  me  in  a forc’d  content. 

And  shut  myself  up  in  some  other  course  120 

To  fortune’s  alms. 

Des.  Alas  ! thrice-gentle  Cassio  ! 

My  advocation  is  not  now  in  tune; 

My  lord  is  not  my  lord ; nor  should  I know  him, 

Were  he  in  favour  as  in  humour  alter’d.  124 

So  help  me  every  spirit  sanctified, 

As  I have  spoken  for  you  all  my  best 
And  stood  within  the  blank  of  his  displeasure 
For  my  free  speech.  You  must  awhile  be 
patient ; 128 

What  I can  do  I will,  and  more  I will 
Than  for  myself  I dare:  let  that  suffice  you. 

Iago.  Is  my  lord  angry? 

107  happiness •.  fortunate  happening  118  But:  merely 

120  shut  . . . in:  confine  myself  to 

121  To  . . . alms:  in  pursuit  of  fortune's  favor 

124  humour:  disposition  127  blank:  range  {literally,  target ) 


82 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Emil.  He  went  hence  but  now. 

And  certainly  in  strange  unquietness.  132 

I ago.  Can  he  be  angry  ? I have  seen  the  cannon. 
When  it  hath  blown  his  ranks  into  the  air. 

And,  like  the  devil,  from  his  very  arm  135 

Puff’d  his  own  brother ; and  can  he  be  angry  ? 
Something  of  moment  then ; I will  go  meet  him ; 
There’s  matter  in ’t  indeed,  if  he  be  angry. 

Des.  I prithee,  do  so.  [Exit  Iago.~\  Something, 
sure,  of  state, 

Either  from  Venice,  or  some  unhatch’d  practice 
Made  demonstrable  here  in  Cyprus  to  him,  141 

Hath  puddled  his  clear  spirit;  and  in  such  cases 
Men’s  natures  wrangle  with  inferior  things, 

Though  great  ones  are  their  object.  ’Tis  even  so; 
For  let  our  finger  ache,  and  it  indues  145 

Our  other  healthful  members  ev’n  to  that  sense 
Of  pain.  Nay,  we  must  think  men  are  not  gods, 

Nor  of  them  look  for  such  observancy  148 

As  fits  the  bridal.  Beshrew  me  much,  Emilia, 

I was — unhandsome  warrior  as  I am — 

Arraigning  his  unkindness  with  my  soul; 

But  now  I find  I had  suborn’d  the  witness,  152 

And  he’s  indicted  falsely. 

Emil.  Pray  heaven  it  be  state-matters,  as  you 
think, 

And  no  conception,  nor  no  jealous  toy 
Concerning  you.  156 

Des.  Alas  the  day ! I never  gave  him  cause. 

Emil.  But  jealous  souls  will  not  be  answer’d  so; 

140  unhatch’d  practice:  undeveloped  plot 

142  puddled:  muddied,  disturbed  145  indues:  brings 

148  observancy:  tender  devotion  149  Beshrew:  a mild  imprecation 
150  unhandsome  warrior:  unfair  assailant  ( cf . II.  i.  185 ) 

155  conception:  mere  fancy  toy:  whim 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  III.  iv 


83 


They  are  not  ever  jealous  for  the  cause. 

But  jealous  for  they  are  jealous;  ’tis  a monster 
Begot  upon  itself,  born  on  itself.  161 

Des.  Heaven  keep  that  monster  from  Othello’s 
mind ! 

Emil.  Lady,  amen. 

Des.  I will  go  seek  him.  Cassio,  walk  here- 
about; 164 

If  I do  find  him  fit,  I’ll  move  your  suit 
And  seek  to  effect  it  to  my  uttermost. 

Cas.  I humbly  thank  your  ladyship. 

Exeunt  Desdemona  and  Emilia. 

Enter  Bianca. 

Bian.  ’Save  you,  friend  Cassio! 

Cas.  What  make  you  from  home? 

How  is  it  with  you,  my  most  fair  Bianca?  169 

I’  faith,  sweet  love,  I was  coming  to  your  house. 

Bian.  And  I was  going  to  your  lodging,  Cassio. 
What ! keep  a week  away  ? seven  days  and 
nights  ? 172 

Eight  score  eight  hours?  and  lovers’  absent  hours, 
More  tedious  than  the  dial  eight  score  times? 

0 weary  reckoning! 

Cas.  Pardon  me,  Bianca, 

1 have  this  while  with  leaden  thoughts  been 

press’d,  176 

But  I shall,  in  a more  continuate  time. 

Strike  off  this  score  of  absence.  Sweet  Bianca, 

[Giving  her  Desdemona’ s handkerchief .] 
Take  me  this  work  out. 


168  ’Save:  God  save,  preserve  in  health 

172  keep  a week  away;  cf.  n.  177  continuate:  uninterrupted 


84 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello , 


Bian.  O Cassio ! whence  came  this? 

This  is  some  token  from  a newer  friend;  180 

To  the  felt  absence  now  I feel  a cause; 

Is ’t  come  to  this?  Well,  well. 

Cas.  Go  to,  woman ! 

Throw  your  vile  guesses  in  the  devil’s  teeth, 

From  whence  you  have  them.  You  are  jealous 
now  184 

That  this  is  from  some  mistress,  some  remembrance: 
No,  in  good  troth,  Bianca. 

Bian.  Why,  whose  is  it? 

Cas.  I know  not,  sweet;  I found  it  in  my  chamber. 
I like  the  work  well;  ere  it  be  demanded, — 188 

As  like  enough  it  will, — I’d  have  it  copied; 

Take  it  and  do ’t;  and  leave  me  for  this  time. 

Bian.  Leave  you!  wherefore? 

Cas.  I do  attend  here  on  the  general,  192 

And  think  it  no  addition  nor  my  wish 
To  have  him  see  me  woman’d. 

Bian.  Why,  I pray  you? 

Cas.  Not  that  I love  you  not. 

Bian.  But  that  you  do  not  love  me. 

I pray  you,  bring  me  on  the  way  a little  196 

And  say  if  I shall  see  you  soon  at  night. 

Cas.  ’Tis  but  a little  way  that  I can  bring  you, 

For  I attend  here;  but  I’ll  see  you  soon. 

Bian.  ’Tis  very  good;  I must  be  circumstanc’d. 

Exeunt. 


193  no  . . . -wish',  neither  honorable  nor  desirable 

194  woman’d:  accompanied  by  a woman 
200  be  circumstanc’d:  yield  to  circumstances 


The  Moor  of  Venice , IV.  i 


85 


ACT  FOURTH 


Scene  One 
[ Before  the  Castle ] 

Enter  Othello  and  Iago. 

lago.  Will  you  think  so? 

Oth.  Think  so,  Iago ! 

Iago.  What ! 

To  kiss  in  private? 

Oth.  An  unauthoriz’d  kiss. 

Iago.  Or  to  be  naked  with  her  friend  in  bed 
An  hour  or  more,  not  meaning  any  harm?  4 

Oth.  Naked  in  bed,  Iago,  and  not  mean  harm? 

It  is  hypocrisy  against  the  devil: 

They  that  mean  virtuously,  and  yet  do  so. 

The  devil  their  virtue  tempts,  and  they  tempt 

heaven.  8 

Iago.  If  they  do  nothing,  ’tis  a venial  slip; 

But  if  I give  my  wife  a handkerchief, — 

Oth.  What  then? 

Iago.  Why,  then,  ’tis  hers,  my  lord;  and,  being 

hers,  12 

She  may,  I think,  bestow ’t  on  any  man. 

Oth.  She  is  protectress  of  her  honour  too; 

May  she  give  that? 

Iago.  Her  honour  is  an  essence  that’s  not 

seen ; 16 

They  have  it  very  oft  that  have  it  not: 

But  for  the  handkerchief, — 

Oth.  By  heaven,  I would  most  gladly  have  forgot 
it: — 


6 Cf.  n. 


17  Cf.  «. 


86 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Thou  said’st, — O ! it  comes  o’er  my  memory,  20 

As  doth  the  raven  o’er  the  infected  house, 

Boding  to  all, — he  had  my  handkerchief. 

Iago.  Ay,  what  of  that? 

Oth.  That’s  not  so  good  now. 

Iago.  What, 

If  I had  said  I had  seen  him  do  you  wrong?  24 

Or  heard  him  say, — as  knaves  be  such  abroad, 

Who  having,  by  their  own  importunate  suit. 

Or  voluntary  dotage  of  some  mistress, 

Convinced  or  supplied  them,  cannot  choose  28 

But  they  must  blab, — 

Oth.  Hath  he  said  any  thing? 

Iago.  He  hath,  my  lord;  but  be  you  well  assur’d. 
No  more  than  he’ll  unswear. 

Oth.  What  hath  he  said? 

Iago.  Faith,  that  he  did — I know  not  what  he 

did.  32 

Oth.  What?  what? 

Iago.  Lie — 

Oth.  With  her? 

Iago.  With  her,  on  her;  what  you  will. 

Oth.  Lie  with  her!  lie  on  her!  We  say,  lie  on 
her,  when  they  belie  her.  Lie  with  her ! that’s 
fulsome.  Handkerchief, — confessions, — hand- 

kerchief! To  confess,  and  be  hanged  for  his 
labour.  First,  to  be  hanged,  and  then  to  confess: 

I tremble  at  it.  Nature  would  not  invest  herself 
in  such  shadowing  passion  without  some  instruc- 
tion. It  is  not  words  that  shake  me  thus.  Pish ! 
Noses,  ears,  and  lips.  Is  it  possible? — Confess! 

— Handkerchief! — O devil!  Falls  in  a trance. 

28  Convinced:  overcome  (those  who  needed  importuning)  supplied: 

satisfied  ( those  who  doted  voluntarily ) 

35-44  Cf.n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  IV.  i 


87 


I ago.  Work  on,  45 

My  medicine,  work!  Thus  credulous  fools  are 
caught ; 

And  many  worthy  and  chaste  dames  even  thus, 

All  guiltless;  meet  reproach.  What,  ho  ! my  lord ! 48 

My  lord,  I say ! Othello  ! 

Enter  Cassio. 

How  now,  Cassio! 

Cas.  What’s  the  matter? 

I ago.  My  lord  is  fallen  into  an  epilepsy; 

This  is  his  second  fit;  he  had  one  yesterday.  52 

Cas.  Rub  him  about  the  temples. 

Iago.  No,  forbear; 

The  lethargy  must  have  his  quiet  course. 

If  not  he  foams  at  mouth,  and  by  and  by 
Breaks  out  to  savage  madness.  Look ! he  stirs ; 

Do  you  withdraw  yourself  a little  while,  57 

He  will  recover  straight;  when  he  is  gone, 

I would  on  great  occasion  speak  with  you. 

[Exit  Cassio.~\ 

How  is  it,  general?  have  you  not  hurt  your  head?  60 
Oth.  Dost  thou  mock  me? 

Iago.  I mock  you ! no,  by  heaven. 

Would  you  would  bear  your  fortune  like  a man! 

Oth.  A horned  man’s  a monster  and  a beast. 

Iago.  There’s  many  a beast  then,  in  a populous 
city,  64 

And  many  a civil  monster. 

Oth.  Did  he  confess  it? 

Iago.  Good  sir,  be  a man; 

Think  every  bearded  fellow  that’s  but  yok’d 
May  draw  with  you;  there’s  millions  now  alive  68 


54  his:  its 


63  horned  man:  a deceived  husband 


65  civil:  civilian 


88 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


That  nightly  lie  in  those  unproper  beds 

Which  they  dare  swear  peculiar;  your  case  is  better. 

O ! ’tis  the  spite  of  hell,  the  fiend’s  arch-mock, 

To  lip  a wanton  in  a secure  couch,  72 

And  to  suppose  her  chaste.  No,  let  me  know; 

And  knowing  what  I am  I know  what  she  shall  be. 
Oth.  O ! thou  art  wise;  ’tis  certain. 

I ago.  Stand  you  awhile  apart; 

Confine  yourself  but  in  a patient  list.  76 

Whilst  you  were  here  o’erwhelmed  with  your  grief, — 
A passion  most  unsuiting  such  a man, — 

Cassio  came  hither;  I shifted  him  away. 

And  laid  good  ’scuse  upon  your  ecstasy;  80 

Bade  him  anon  return  and  here  speak  with  me; 

The  which  he  promis’d.  Do  but  encave  yourself. 

And  mark  the  fleers,  the  gibes,  and  notable  scorns, 
That  dwell  in  every  region  of  his  face ; 84 

For  I will  make  him  tell  the  tale  anew, 

Where,  how,  how  oft,  how  long  ago,  and  when 
He  hath,  and  is  again  to  cope  your  wife: 

I say,  but  mark  his  gesture.  Marry,  patience; 

Or  I shall  say  you  are  all  in  all  in  spleen,  89 

And  nothing  of  a man. 

Oth.  Dost  thou  hear,  Iago? 

I will  be  found  most  cunning  in  my  patience ; 

But — dost  thou  hear? — most  bloody. 

Iago.  That’s  not  amiss ; 92 

But  yet  keep  time  in  all.  Will  you  withdraw? 

[ Othello  goes  apart. ] 
Now  will  I question  Cassio  of  Bianca, 

69  unproper:  not  their  own  70  peculiar:  their  own 

72  lip:  kiss  secure:  care-free 

76  in  . . . list:  within  the  bounds  of  patience 

80  ecstasy:  fit  82  encave:  conceal  87  cope:  encounter 

89.  90  all  . . . man;  cf.  n.  93  keep  time:  proceed  fittingly 


The  Moor  of  Venice , IV.  i 


89 


A housewife  that  by  selling  her  desires 
Buys  herself  bread  and  clothes ; it  is  a creature 
That  dotes  on  Cassio ; as  ’tis  the  strumpet’s  plague  97 
To  beguile  many  and  be  beguil’d  by  one. 

He,  when  he  hears  of  her,  cannot  refrain 
From  the  excess  of  laughter.  Here  he  comes: 

Enter  Cassio. 

As  he  shall  smile,  Othello  shall  go  mad;  101 

And  his  unbookish  j ealousy  must  construe 
Poor  Cassio’s  smiles,  gestures,  and  light  behaviour 
Quite  in  the  wrong.  How  do  you  now,  lieu- 
tenant ? 104 

Cas.  The  worser  that  you  give  me  the  addition 
Whose  want  even  kills  me. 

Iago.  Ply  Desdemona  well,  and  you  are  sure  on ’t. 
[Speaking  lower .]  Now,  if  this  suit  lay  in  Bianca’s 
power,  108 

How  quickly  should  you  speed ! 

Cas.  Alas  ! poor  caitiff ! 

Oth.  Look!  how  he  laughs  already! 

Iago.  I never  knew  woman  love  man  so. 

Cas.  Alas ! poor  rogue,  I think,  i’  faith,  she  loves 
me.  112 

Oth.  Now  he  denies  it  faintly,  and  laughs  it  out. 
Iago.  Do  you  hear,  Cassio? 

Oth.  Now  he  importunes  him 

To  tell  it  o’er:  go  to;  well  said,  well  said. 

Iago.  She  gives  it  out  that  you  shall  marry 
her;  116 

Do  you  intend  it? 

Cas.  Ha,  ha,  ha! 


102  unbookish:  unskilled  105  addition:  title 

109  speed  '.prosper  caitiff:  wretch  fused  pityingly)  110  Cf.  n. 


90 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, ' 


Oth.  Do  you  triumph,  Roman?  do  you  tri- 
umph ? 119 

Cas.  I marry  her!  what?  a customer?  I 
prithee,  bear  some  charity  to  my  wit;  do  not 
think  it  so  unwholesome.  Ha,  ha,  ha ! 

Oth.  So,  so,  so,  so.  They  laugh  that  win. 

I ago.  Faith,  the  cry  goes  that  you  shall 
marry  her.  125 

Cas.  Prithee,  say  true. 

Iago.  I am  a very  villain  else. 

Oth.  Have  you  scored  me?  Well.  128 

Cas.  This  is  the  monkey’s  own  giving  out: 
she  is  persuaded  I will  marry  her,  out  of  her 
own  love  and  flattery,  not  out  of  my  promise. 

Oth.  Iago  beckons  me;  now  he  begins  the 
story.  133 

Cas.  She  was  here  even  now;  she  haunts  me 
in  every  place.  I was  the  other  day  talking  on 
the  sea  bank  with  certain  Venetians,  and  thither 
comes  this  bauble,  and,  by  this  hand,  she  falls 
me  thus  about  my  neck; — 

Oth.  Crying,  ‘O  dear  Cassio!’  as  it  were;  his 
gesture  imports  it.  140 

Cas.  So  hangs  and  lolls  and  weeps  upon  me; 
so  hales  and  pulls  me ; ha,  ha,  ha ! 

Oth.  Now  he  tells  how  she  plucked  him  to 
my  chamber.  O ! I see  that  nose  of  yours,  but 
not  the  dog  I shall  throw  it  to.  145 

Cas.  Well,  I must  leave  her  company. 

Iago.  Before  me ! look,  where  she  comes. 

119  Roman:  used  metaphorically , in  association  with  ‘ triumph ’ 

120  customer : prostitute  121  wit:  intelligence 

122  unwholesome:  unsound  128  scored  me:  taken  my  measure  ( ?) 

131  flattery:  self-flattery,  delusion 

137  bauble:  plaything,  trifle  147  Before  me!;  cf.  n.  on  I.  i.  4 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  IV.  i 


91 


Cas.  ’Tis  such  another  fitchew ! marry,  a 
perfumed  one.  149 

Enter  Bianca. 

What  do  you  mean  by  this  haunting  of  me? 

Bian.  Let  the  devil  and  his  dam  haunt  you! 
What  did  you  mean  by  that  same  handkerchief 
you  gave  me  even  now  ? I was  a fine  fool  to  take 
it.  I must  take  out  the  work ! A likely  piece  of 
work,  that  you  should  find  it  in  your  chamber, 
and  not  know  who  left  it  there ! This  is  some 
minx’s  token,  and  I must  take  out  the  work! 
There,  give  it  your  hobby-horse;  wheresoever 
you  had  it  I’ll  take  out  no  work  on ’t. 

Cas.  How  now,  my  sweet  Bianca ! how  now, 
how  now ! 161 

Oth.  By  heaven,  that  should  be  my  handker- 
chief ! 

Bian.  An  you’ll  come  to  supper  to-night,  you 
may;  an  you  will  not,  come  when  you  are  next 
prepared  for.  Exit. 

Iago.  After  her,  after  her. 

Cas.  Faith,  I must;  she’ll  rail  in  the  street 
else.  169 

Iago.  Will  you  sup  there? 

Cas.  Faith,  I intend  so. 

Iago.  Well,  I may  chance  to  see  you,  for  I 
would  very  fain  speak  with  you.  173 

Cas.  Prithee,  come;  will  you? 

Iago.  Go  to;  say  no  more.  [Exit  Cassio.~\ 

Oth.  [ Advancing ] How  shall  I murder  him, 
Iago?  177 

148  such  another:  a patronizingly  fond  intensive,  like  modern  'such 

a’  fitchew:  amorous  creature  ( literally , polecat ) 

1S8  hobby-horse:  low  person,  of  either  sex  164  An:  if 


92 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


logo.  Did  you  perceive  how  he  laughed  at 
his  vice? 

Oth.  O ! Iago ! iso 

Iago.  And  did  you  see  the  handkerchief? 

Oth.  Was  that  mine? 

Iago.  Yours,  by  this  hand;  and  to  see  how  he 
prizes  the  foolish  woman  your  wife ! she  gave  it 
him,  and  he  hath  given  it  his  whore.  185 

Oth.  I would  have  him  nine  years  a-killing. 

A fine  woman!  a fair  woman!  a sweet  woman! 
Iago.  Nay,  you  must  forget  that.  1S8 

Oth.  Ay,  let  her  rot,  and  perish,  and  be 
damned  to-night;  for  she  shall  not  live.  No,  my 
heart  is  turned  to  stone;  I strike  it,  and  it  hurts 
my  hand.  O ! the  world  hath  not  a sweeter 
creature;  she  might  lie  by  an  emperor’s  side  and 
command  him  tasks. 

Iago.  Nay,  that’s  not  your  way.  195 

Oth.  Hang  her!  I do  but  say  what  she  is. 
So  delicate  with  her  needle ! An  admirable 
musician!  O,  she  will  sing  the  savageness  out 
of  a bear.  Of  so  high  and  plenteous  wit  and 
invention ! 200 

Iago.  She’s  the  worse  for  all  this. 

Oth.  O ! a thousand,  a thousand  times.  And 
then,  of  so  gentle  a condition ! 

Iago.  Ay,  too  gentle.  204 

Oth.  Nay,  that’s  certain; — but  yet  the  pity  of 
it,  Iago ! O ! Iago,  the  pity  of  it,  Iago  ! 

Iago.  If  you  are  so  fond  over  her  iniquity, 
give  her  patent  to  offend;  for,  if  it  touch  not 
you,  it  comes  near  nobody.  209 


195  your  way:  the  way  for  you  (to  think  of  her ) 208  patent:  license 


The  Moor  of  Venice , IV.  i 


98 


Oth.  I will  chop  her  into  messes.  Cuckold 
me ! 

Iago.  O ! ’tis  foul  in  her.  212 

Oth.  With  mine  officer! 

Iago.  That’s  fouler. 

Oth.  Get  me  some  poison,  Iago;  this  night: 
I’ll  not  expostulate  with  her,  lest  her  body  and 
beauty  unprovide  my  mind  again.  This  night, 
Iago.  218 

Iago.  Do  it  not  with  poison,  strangle  her  in 
her  bed,  even  the  bed  she  hath  contaminated. 

Oth.  Good,  good;  the  justice  of  it  pleases; 
very  good. 

Iago.  And  for  Cassio,  let  me  be  his  under- 
taker ; you  shall  hear  more  by  midnight.  224 

Oth.  Excellent  good.  [A  trumpet  within .] 

What  trumpet  is  that  same? 

Iago.  Something  from  Venice,  sure.  ’Tis  Lodovico, 
Come  from  the  duke;  and  see,  your  wife  is  with 
him.  228 

Enter  Lodovico,  Desdemona,  and  Attendants. 

Lod.  God  save  you,  worthy  general ! 

Oth.  With  all  my  heart,  sir. 

Lod.  The  duke  and  senators  of  Venice  greet  you. 

[ Gives  him  a letter .] 

Oth.  I kiss  the  instrument  of  their  pleasures. 

[ Opens  the  letter,  and  reads.\ 
Des.  And  what’s  the  news,  good  cousin  Lodo- 
vico? 232 

Iago.  I am  very  glad  to  see  you,  signior; 

Welcome  to  Cyprus. 

Lod.  I thank  you.  How  does  Lieutenant  Cassio? 

217  unprovide : unfit,  weaken 

223  undertaker:  caretaker  (i.e.,  settle  him) 


94 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


lago.  Lives,  sir.  236 

Des.  Cousin,  there’s  fall’n  between  him  and  my 
lord 

An  unkind  breach;  but  you  shall  make  all  well. 

Oth.  Are  you  sure  of  that? 

Des.  My  lord?  240 

Oth.  [.Reads]  ‘This  fail  you  not  to  do,  as  you 
will’ — 


Lod.  He  did  not  call ; he’s  busy  in  the  paper. 

Is  there  division  twixt  my  lord  and  Cassio? 

Des.  A most  unhappy  one;  I would  do  much 
To  atone  them,  for  the  love  I bear  to  Cassio.  245 
Oth.  Fire  and  brimstone ! 

Des.  My  lord? 

Oth.  Are  you  wise? 


Des.  What!  is  he  angry? 

Lod.  May  be  the  letter  mov’d  him ; 

For,  as  I think,  they  do  command  him  home, 
Deputing  Cassio  in  his  government.  249 

Des.  Trust  me,  I am  glad  on’t. 

Oth.  Indeed! 

Des.  My  lord? 

Oth.  I am  glad  to  see  you  mad. 

Des.  Why,  sweet  Othello? 

Oth.  Devil!  [ Strikes  her .] 

Des.  I have  not  deserved  this.  252 

Lod.  My  lord,  this  would  not  be  believ’d  in  Venice, 
Though  I should  swear  I saw ’t:  ’tis  very  much; 

Make  her  amends,  she  weeps. 

Oth.  O devil,  devil ! 

If  that  the  earth  could  teem  with  woman’s  tears. 

Each  drop  she  falls  would  prove  a crocodile.  257 


245  atone:  reconcile 

256  teem  with:  be  impregnated  by 


249  government:  office 
257  falls:  lets  fall 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  IV.  i 


95 


Out  of  my  sight! 

Des.  I will  not  stay  to  offend  you. 

[Going.] 

Lod.  Truly,  an  obedient  lady; 

I do  beseech  your  lordship,  call  her  back.  260 

Oth.  Mistress ! 

Des.  My  lord  ? 

Oth.  What  would  you  with  her,  sir? 

Lod.  Who,  I,  my  lord? 

Oth.  Ay;  you  did  wish  that  I would  make  her  turn: 
Sir,  she  can  turn,  and  turn,  and  yet  go  on,  264 

And  turn  again ; and  she  can  weep,  sir,  weep ; 

And  she’s  obedient,  as  you  say,  obedient, 

Very  obedient.  Proceed  you  in  your  tears. 
Concerning  this,  sir, — O well-painted  passion ! — 

I am  commanded  home.  Get  you  away;  269 

I’ll  send  for  you  anon.  Sir,  I obey  the  mandate, 

And  will  return  to  Venice.  Hence!  avaunt! 

[Exit  Desdemona.] 

Cassio  shall  have  my  place.  And,  sir,  to-night, 

I do  entreat  that  we  may  sup  together ; 273 

You  are  welcome,  sir,  to  Cyprus.  Goats  and  monkeys  ! 

Exit. 

Lod.  Is  this  the  noble  Moor  whom  our  full  senate 
Call  all-in-all  sufficient?  is  this  the  noble  nature 
Whom  passion  could  not  shake?  whose  solid 

virtue  277 

The  shot  of  accident  nor  dart  of  chance 
Could  neither  graze  nor  pierce? 

Iago.  He  is  much  chang’d. 

Lod.  Are  his  wits  safe?  is  he  not  light  of 
brain  ? 280 


268  painted  passion:  simulated  emotion 


96 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


lago.  He’s  that  he  is;  I may  not  breathe  my  cen- 
sure. 

What  he  might  be,  if,  what  he  might,  he  is  not, 

I would  to  heaven  he  were ! 

Lod.  What ! strike  his  wife ! 

Iago.  Faith,  that  was  not  so  well;  yet  would  I 
knew  284 

That  stroke  would  prove  the  worst ! 

Lod.  Is  it  his  use? 

Or  did  the  letters  work  upon  his  blood. 

And  new-create  this  fault? 

Iago.  Alas,  alas ! 

It  is  not  honesty  in  me  to  speak  288 

What  I have  seen  and  known.  You  shall  observe 
him. 

And  his  courses  will  denote  him  so 
That  I may  save  my  speech.  Do  but  go  after 
And  mark  how  he  continues.  292 

Lod.  I am  sorry  that  I am  deceiv’d  in  him. 

Exeunt. 


Scene  Two 

\_A  Room  in  the  Castle~\ 

Enter  Othello  and  Emilia. 

Oth.  You  have  seen  nothing,  then? 

Emil.  Nor  ever  heard,  nor  ever  did  suspect. 

Oth.  Yes,  you  have  seen  Cassio  and  her  together. 
Emil.  But  then  I saw  no  harm,  and  then  I heard  4 
Each  syllable  that  breath  made  up  between  them. 
Oth.  What!  did  they  never  whisper? 

Emil.  Never,  my  lord. 

Oth.  Nor  send  you  out  o’  the  way? 


282,  283  Cf.  n. 


28S  use:  custom 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  IV.  ii 


97 


Emil.  Never. 

Oth.  To  fetch  her  fan,  her  gloves,  her  mask,  nor 
nothing  ? 8 

Emil.  Never,  my  lord. 

Oth.  That’s  strange. 

Emil.  I durst,  my  lord,  to  wager  she  is  honest,  11 
Lay  down  my  soul  at  stake:  if  you  think  other, 
Remove  your  thought;  it  doth  abuse  your  bosom. 

If  any  wretch  have  put  this  in  your  head, 

Let  heaven  requite  it  with  the  serpent’s  curse ! 

For,  if  she  be  not  honest,  chaste,  and  true,  16 

There’s  no  man  happy ; the  purest  of  their  wives 
Is  foul  as  slander. 

Oth.  Bid  her  come  hither;  go. 

Exit  Emilia. 

She  says  enough;  yet  she’s  a simple  bawd 

That  cannot  say  as  much.  This  is  a subtle  whore,  20 

A closet  lock  and  key  of  villainous  secrets ; 

And  yet  she’ll  kneel  and  pray ; I have  seen  her  do ’t. 

Enter  Desdemona  and  Emilia. 

Des.  My  lord,  what  is  your  will  ? 

Oth.  Pray,  chuck,  come  hither. 

Des.  What  is  your  pleasure? 

Oth.  Let  me  see  your  eyes;  24 

Look  in  my  face. 

Des.  What  horrible  fancy’s  this? 

Oth.  [To  Emilia.]  Some  of  your  function,  mistress; 
Leave  procreants  alone  and  shut  the  door; 

Cough  or  cry  ‘hem’  if  anybody  come;  28 

Your  mystery,  your  mystery;  nay,  dispatch. 

Exit  Emilia. 

12  other:  otherwise  15  serpent’s  curse;  cf.  Genesis  3.  14 

21  closet  lock  and  key:  complete  storeroom 

26  function:  profession  (i.e.,  of  procuress)  29  mystery : trade 


98 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Des.  Upon  my  knees,  what  doth  your  speech  im- 
port? 

I understand  a fury  in  your  words. 

But  not  the  words.  32 

Oth.  Why,  what  art  thou? 

Des.  Your  wife,  my  lord;  your  true 

And  loyal  wife. 

Oth.  Come,  swear  it,  damn  thyself; 

Lest,  being  like  one  of  heaven,  the  devils  themselves 
Should  fear  to  seize  thee;  therefore  be  double- 
damn’d ; 36 

Swear  thou  art  honest. 

Des.  Heaven  doth  truly  know  it. 

Oth.  Heaven  truly  knows  that  thou  art  false  as 
hell. 

Des.  To  whom,  my  lord?  with  whom?  how  am  I 
false? 

Oth.  Ah  ! Desdemona ; away,  away,  away ! 40 

Des.  Alas,  the  heavy  day! — Why  do  you  weep? 

Am  I the  motive  of  these  tears,  my  lord? 

If  haply  you  my  father  do  suspect 
An  instrument  of  this  your  calling  back,  44 

Lay  not  your  blame  on  me;  if  you  have  lost  him, 
Why,  I have  lost  him  too. 

Oth.  Had  it  pleas’d  heaven 

To  try  me  with  affliction,  had  they  rain’d 
All  kinds  of  sores,  and  shames,  on  my  bare  head,  48 
Steep’d  me  in  poverty  to  the  very  lips, 

Given  to  captivity  me  and  my  utmost  hopes, 

I should  have  found  in  some  part  of  my  soul 
A drop  of  patience;  but,  alas!  to  make  me  52 

The  fixed  figure  for  the  time  of  scorn 
To  point  his  slow  unmoving  finger  at! 


S3,  54  Cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  IV.  ii 


99 


Yet  could  I bear  that  too;  well,  very  well: 

But  there,  where  I have  garner’d  up  my  heart, 

Where  either  I must  live  or  bear  no  life,  57 

The  fountain  from  the  which  my  current  runs 
Or  else  dries  up ; to  be  discarded  thence ! 

Or  keep  it  as  a cistern  for  foul  toads  60 

To  knot  and  gender  in!  Turn  thy  complexion  there. 
Patience,  thou  young  and  rose-lipp’d  cherubin; 

Ay,  there,  look  grim  as  hell ! 

Des.  I hope  my  noble  lord  esteems  me  honest.  64 
Oth.  O!  ay;  as  summer  flies  are  in  the  shambles. 
That  quicken  even  with  blowing.  O thou  weed ! 

Who  art  so  lovely  fair  and  smell’st  so  sweet 
That  the  sense  aches  at  thee,  would  thou  hadst  ne’er 
been  born.  68 

Des.  Alas!  what  ignorant  sin  have  I committed? 
Oth.  Was  this  fair  paper,  this  most  goodly  book. 
Made  to  write  ‘whore’  upon  ? What  committed ! 
Committed ! O thou  public  commoner  ! 72 

I should  make  very  forges  of  my  cheeks, 

That  would  to  cinders  burn  up  modesty. 

Did  I but  speak  thy  deeds.  What  committed! 
Heaven  stops  the  nose  at  it  and  the  moon  winks. 

The  bawdy  wind  that  kisses  all  it  meets  77 

Is  hush’d  within  the  hollow  mine  of  earth, 

And  will  not  hear  it.  What  committed! 

Impudent  strumpet ! 

Des.  By  heaven,  you  do  me  wrong.  80 

Oth.  Are  not  you  a strumpet? 

Des.  No,  as  I am  a Christian. 

If  to  preserve  this  vessel  for  my  lord 

61  gender:  engender,  multiply  Turn  . . . complexion:  change 

color,  grow  pale 

62  cherubin;  cf.  n.  66  quicken  . . . blowing;  cf.  n. 


100 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


From  any  other  foul  unlawful  touch 
Be  not  to  be  a strumpet,  I am  none.  84 

Oth.  What!  not  a whore? 

Des.  No,  as  I shall  be  sav’d. 

Oth.  Is  it  possible? 

Des.  O ! heaven  forgive  us. 

Oth.  I cry  you  mercy,  then; 

I took  you  for  that  cunning  whore  of  Venice  88 

That  married  with  Othello.  You,  mistress. 

That  have  the  office  opposite  to  Saint  Peter, 

And  keep  the  gate  of  hell ! 

Enter  Emilia. 

You,  you,  ay,  you! 

We  have  done  our  course;  there’s  money  for  your 
pains.  92 

I pray  you,  turn  the  key  and  keep  our  counsel. 

Exit. 

Emil.  Alas!  what  does  this  gentleman  conceive? 
How  do  you,  madam?  how  do  you,  my  good  lady? 
Des.  Faith,  half  asleep.  96 

Emil.  Good  madam,  what’s  the  matter  with  my 
lord? 

Des.  With  who? 

Emil.  Why,  with  my  lord,  madam. 

Des.  Who  is  thy  lord  ? 

Emil.  He  that  is  yours,  sweet  lady,  loo 

Des.  I have  none;  do  not  talk  to  me,  Emilia; 

T cannot  weep,  nor  answer  have  I none, 

But  what  should  go  by  water.  Prithee,  to-night 
Lay  on  my  bed  my  wedding  sheets:  remember: 

And  call  thy  husband  hither. 


87  cry  you  mercy:  ask  your  pardon 
103  go  by  water:  express  itself  in  tears 


The  Moor  of  V enice , IV.  ii 


101 


Emil.  Here  is  a change  indeed!  105 

Exit. 

Des.  ’Tis  meet  I should  be  us’d  so,  very  meet. 

How  have  I been  behav’d,  that  he  might  stick 

The  small’st  opinion  on  my  least  misuse?  108 

Enter  Iago  and  Emilia. 

I ago.  What  is  your  pleasure,  madam?  How 
is  it  with  you  ? 

Des.  I cannot  tell.  Those  that  do  teach  young 
babes 

Do  it  with  gentle  means  and  easy  tasks ; 112 

He  might  have  chid  me  so;  for,  in  good  faith, 

I am  a child  to  chiding. 

Iago.  What’s  the  matter,  lady? 

Emil.  Alas ! Iago,  my  lord  hath  so  bewlior’d  her, 
Thrown  such  despite  and  heavy  terms  upon  her. 

As  true  hearts  cannot  bear.  117 

Des.  Am  I that  name,  Iago? 

Iago.  What  name,  fair  lady? 

Des.  Such  as  she  says  my  lord  did  say  I was. 

Emil.  He  call’d  her  whore;  a beggar  in  his 
drink  120 

Could  not  have  laid  such  terms  upon  his  callat. 

Iago.  Why  did  he  so? 

Des.  I do  not  know ; I am  sure  I am  none  such. 
Iago.  Do  not  weep,  do  not  weep.  Alas  the 
day ! 124 

Emil.  Has  she  forsook  so  many  noble  matches, 
Her  father  and  her  country  and  her  friends. 

To  be  call’d  whore?  would  it  not  make  one  weep? 
Des.  It  is  my  wretched  fortune. 

107,  108  stick  . . . misuse:  place  the  least  censure  on  my  slightest 
misdeed 

121  callat:  basest  of  low  women 


102 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Iago.  Beshrew  him  for  it!  128 

How  comes  this  trick  upon  him? 

Des.  Nay,  heaven  doth  know. 

Emil.  I will  be  hang’d,  if  some  eternal  villain. 
Some  busy  and  insinuating  rogue. 

Some  cogging,  cozening  slave,  to  get  some  office,  132 
Have  not  devis’d  this  slander;  I’ll  be  hang’d  else. 
Iago.  Fie!  there  is  no  such  man;  it  is  impossible. 
Des.  If  any  such  there  be,  heaven  pardon  him! 
Emil.  A halter  pardon  him,  and  hell  gnaw  his 
bones ! 136 

Why  should  he  call  her  whore?  who  keeps  her  com- 
pany? 

What  place  ? what  time  ? what  form  ? what  likelihood  ? 
The  Moor’s  abus’d  by  some  most  villainous  knave. 
Some  base  notorious  knave,  some  scurvy  fellow. 

0 heaven ! that  such  companions  thou’dst  unfold,  141 
And  put  in  every  honest  hand  a whip 

To  lash  the  rascals  naked  through  the  world, 

Even  from  the  east  to  the  west ! 

Iago.  Speak  within  door.  144 

Emil.  O ! fie  upon  them.  Some  such  squire  he  was 
That  turn’d  your  wit  the  seamy  side  without. 

And  made  you  to  suspect  me  with  the  Moor. 

Iago.  You  are  a fool;  go  to. 

Des.  O good  Iago,  148 

What  shall  I do  to  win  my  lord  again? 

Good  friend,  go  to  him ; for,  by  this  light  of  heaven, 

1 know  not  how  I lost  him.  Here  I kneel: 

If  e’er  my  will  did  trespass  ’gainst  his  love,  152 

Either  in  discourse  of  thought  or  actual  deed, 

129  trick:  vagary  132  cogging,  cozening:  deceiving,  cheating 

140  notorious:  egregious,  preeminent 

141  companions:  base  fellows  unfold:  expose 
144  within  door,  quietly,  not  from  the  house-tops 
153  discourse:  process  (?) 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  IV.  ii 


103 


Or  that  mine  eyes,  mine  ears,  or  any  sense, 

Delighted  them  in  any  other  form; 

Or  that  I do  not  yet,  and  ever  did,  156 

And  ever  will,  though  he  do  shake  me  off 
To  beggarly  divorcement,  love  him  dearly, 

Comfort  forswear  me ! Unkindness  may  do  much ; 
And  his  unkindness  may  defeat  my  life,  160 

But  never  taint  my  love.  I cannot  say  ‘whore’ : 

It  does  abhor  me  now  I speak  the  word; 

To  do  the  act  that  might  the  addition  earn 
Not  the  world’s  mass  of  vanity  could  make  me. 

Iago.  I pray  you  be  content,  ’tis  but  his 
humour;  165 

The  business  of  the  state  does  him  offence, 

And  he  does  chide  with  you. 

Des.  If  ’twere  no  other, — 

Iago.  ’Tis  but  so,  I warrant.  [Trumpets  •within.'] 
Hark ! how  these  instruments  summon  to  supper ; 169 

The  messengers  of  Venice  stay  the  meat: 

Go  in,  and  weep  not;  all  things  shall  be  well. 

Exeunt  Desdemona  and  Emilia. 

Enter  Roderigo. 

How  now,  Roderigo ! 172 

Rod.  I do  not  find  that  thou  dealest  justly 
with  me. 

Iago.  What  in  the  contrary? 

Rod.  Every  day  thou  daffest  me  with  some 
device,  Iago;  and  rather,  as  it  seems  to  me  now, 
keepest  from  me  all  conveniency,  than  suppliest 

154  that : if  159  Comfort  . . . me:  may  happiness  forsake  me 

160  defeat:  destroy  162  abhor : fill  with  abhorrence 

164  vanity:  finery  {or,  vain  mass,  futile  hulk?) 

167  chide  with:  quarrel  with,  ‘ take  it  out  on ’ 

170  stay  the  meat:  are  waiting  for  supper 

175  What  evidence  have  you  against  me? 

176  daffest  me : puttest  me  off  178  conveniency : opportunity 


104 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


me  with  the  least  advantage  of  hope.  I will  in- 
deed no  longer  endure  it,  nor  am  I yet  persuaded 
to  put  up  in  peace  what  already  I have  foolishly 
suffered.  182 

Iago.  Will  you  hear  me,  Roderigo? 

Rod.  Faith,  I have  heard  too  much,  for  your 
words  and  performances  are  no  kin  together. 

Iago.  You  charge  me  most  unjustly.  186 

Rod.  With  nought  but  truth.  I have  wasted 
myself  out  of  my  means.  The  jewels  you  have 
had  from  me  to  deliver  to  Desdemona  would 
half  have  corrupted  a votarist;  you  have  told 
me  she  has  received  them,  and  returned  me 
expectations  and  comforts  of  sudden  respect 
and  acquaintance,  but  I find  none.  193 

Iago.  Well;  go  to;  very  well. 

Rod.  Very  well!  go  to!  I cannot  go  to,  man; 
nor  ’tis  not  very  well:  by  this  hand,  I say,  it  is 
very  scurvy,  and  begin  to  find  myself  fopped  in  it. 
Iago.  Very  well.  198 

Rod.  I tell  you  ’tis  not  very  well.  I will  make 
myself  known  to  Desdemona;  if  she  will  return 
me  my  jewels,  I will  give  over  my  suit  and  re- 
pent my  unlawful  solicitation ; if  not,  assure 
yourself  I will  seek  satisfaction  of  you. 

Iago.  You  have  said  now.  204 

Rod.  Ay,  and  said  nothing  but  what  I pro- 
test intendment  of  doing. 

Iago.  Why,  now  I see  there’s  mettle  in  thee, 
and  even  from  this  instant  do  build  on  thee  a 
better  opinion  than  ever  before.  Give  me  thy 


179  advantage:  increase,  furthering 

181  put  up : accept  190  votarist:  religious  devotee,  nun 

1 92  sudden  respect : immediate  notice  197  fopped:  swindled 


The  Moor  of  V enice , IV.  ii 


105 


hand,  Roderigo;  thou  hast  taken  against  me  a 
most  just  exception;  but  yet,  I protest,  I have 
dealt  most  directly  in  thy  affair.  212 

Rod.  It  hath  not  appeared. 

Iago.  I grant  indeed  it  hath  not  appeared, 
and  your  suspicion  is  not  without  wit  and  judg- 
ment. But,  Roderigo,  if  thou  hast  that  in  thee 
indeed,  which  I have  greater  reason  to  believe 
now  than  ever,  I mean  purpose,  courage,  and 
valour,  this  night  show  it:  if  thou  the  next 
night  following  enjoy  not  Desdemona,  take  me 
from  this  world  with  treachery  and  devise 
engines  for  my  life. 

Rod.  Well,  what  is  it?  is  it  within  reason  and 
compass?  224 

Iago.  Sir,  there  is  especial  commission  come 
from  Venice  to  depute  Cassio  in  Othello’s  place. 

Rod.  Is  that  true?  why,  then  Othello  and 
Desdemona  return  again  to  Venice.  228 

Iago.  O,  no ! he  goes  into  Mauritania,  and 
takes  away  with  him  the  fair  Desdemona,  un- 
less his  abode  be  lingered  here  by  some  accident; 
wherein  none  can  be  so  determinate  as  the  re- 
moving of  Cassio.  233 

Rod.  How  do  you  mean,  removing  of  him? 
Iago.  Why,  by  making  him  uncapable  of 
Othello’s  place;  knocking  out  his  brains. 

Rod.  And  that  you  would  have  me  do?  237 

Iago.  Ay;  if  you  dare  do  yourself  a profit 
and  a right.  He  sups  to-night  with  a harlotry, 
and  thither  will  I go  to  him;  he  knows  not  yet 
of  his  honourable  fortune.  If  you  will  watch 

212  directly : straightforwardly  222  engines  for:  plots  against 

229  Mauritania:  supposed  land  of  the  Moors;  cf.  n. 

231  lingered:  prolonged  232  determinate:  decisive 


106 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


his  going  thence,— which  I will  fashion  to  fall 
out  between  twelve  and  one, — you  may  take 
him  at  your  pleasure;  I will  be  near  to  second 
your  attempt,  and  he  shall  fall  between  us. 
Come,  stand  not  amazed  at  it,  but  go  along 
with  me;  I will  show  you  such  a necessity  in  his 
death  that  you  shall  think  yourself  bound  to  put 
it  on  him.  It  is  now  high  supper-time,  and  the 
night  grows  to  waste;  about  it.  250 

Rod.  I will  hear  further  reason  for  this. 
lago.  And  you  shall  be  satisfied.  Exeunt. 

Scene  Three 

[ Another  Room  in  the  Castle ] 

Enter  Othello,  Lodovico,  Desdemona,  Emilia,  and 
Attendants. 

Lod.  I do  beseech  you,  sir,  trouble  yourself  no 
further. 

Oth.  O ! pardon  me;  ’twill  do  me  good  to  walk. 
Lod.  Madam,  good  night;  I humbly  thank  your 
ladyship. 

Des.  Your  honour  is  most  welcome. 

Oth.  Will  you  walk,  sir? 

O ! Desdemona, — 5 

Des.  My  lord? 

Oth.  Get  you  to  bed  on  the  instant;  I will  be 
returned  forthwith;  dismiss  your  attendant 
there;  look  it  be* done.  9 

Des.  I will,  my  lord. 

Exit  [Othello,  with  Lodovico  and  Attendants ]. 
Emil.  How  goes  it  now?  he  looks  gentler  than  he 
did. 

2S0  grows  to  waste:  is  wasting  away 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  IV.  iii 


107 


Des.  He  says  he  will  return  incontinent;  12 

He  hath  commanded  me  to  go  to  bed. 

And  bade  me  to  dismiss  you. 

Emil.  Dismiss  me ! 

Des.  It  was  his  bidding;  therefore,  good  Emilia, 
Give  me  my  nightly  wearing,  and  adieu:  16 

We  must  not  now  displease  him. 

Emil.  I would  you  had  never  seen  him. 

Des.  So  would  not  I ; my  love  doth  so  approve  him, 
That  even  his  stubbornness,  his  checks  and 
frowns, — 20 

Prithee,  unpin  me, — have  grace  and  favour  in  them. 
Emil.  I have  laid  those  sheets  you  bade  me  on  the 
bed. 

Des.  All’s  one.  Good  faith!  how  foolish  are  our 
minds ! 

If  I do  die  before  thee,  prithee,  shroud  me  24 

In  one  of  those  same  sheets. 

Emil.  Come,  come,  you  talk. 

Des.  My  mother  had  a maid  call’d  Barbara; 

She  was  in  love,  and  he  she  lov’d  prov’d  mad 
And  did  forsake  her ; she  had  a song  of  ‘willow’ ; 28 

An  old  thing  ’twas,  but  it  express’d  her  fortune. 

And  she  died  singing  it;  that  song  to-night 
Will  not  go  from  my  mind ; I have  much  to  do 
But  to  go  hang  my  head  all  at  one  side,  32 

And  sing  it  like  poor  Barbara.  Prithee,  dispatch. 
Emil.  Shall  I go  fetch  your  night-gown? 

Des.  No,  unpin  me  here. 

This  Lodovico  is  a proper  man. 

Emil.  A very  handsome  man.  36 

Des.  He  speaks  well. 


12  incontinent:  immediately 
25  talk:  talk  idly 
32  But  to:  not  to 


23  All’s  one:  no  matter 
27  prov’d : became,  went 
34  night-gown:  dressing-gown 


108 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello , 


Emil.  I know  a lady  in  Venice  would  have 
walked  barefoot  to  Palestine  for  a touch  of  his 
nether  lip.  40 

Des.  [i Singing] 

‘The  poor  soul  sat  sighing  by  a sycamore  tree. 

Sing  all  a green  willow; 

Her  hand  on  her  bosom,  her  head  on  her  knee. 

Sing  willow,  willow,  willow:  44 

The  fresh  streams  ran  by  her,  and  murmur’d  her 
moans ; 

Sing  willow,  willow,  willow: 

Her  salt  tears  fell  from  her,  and  soften’d  the 
stones ;’ — 

Lay  by  these. — 48 

[Singing']  ‘Sing  willow,  willow,  willow:’ — 

Prithee,  hie  thee;  he’ll  come  anon.— 

[Singing] 

‘Sing  all  a green  willow  must  be  my  garland. 
Let  nobody  blame  him,  his  scorn  I approve,’ — 52 

Nay,  that’s  not  next.  Hark!  who  is  it  that 
knocks  ? 

Emil.  It  is  the  wind. 

Des.  [Singing] 

‘I  call’d  my  love  false  love ; but  what  said  he  then?  56 
Sing  willow,  willow,  willow: 

If  I court  moe  women,  you’ll  couch  with  moe  men.’ 

So,  get  thee  gone;  good  night.  Mine  eyes  do  itch; 
Doth  that  bode  weeping? 

Emil.  ’Tis  neither  here  nor  there. 

Des.  I have  heard  it  said  so.  O ! these  men,  these 
men ! 61 


41  The  poor  soul,  etc.;  cf.  ft. 
50  hie  thee:  make  haste 


58  moe:  more,  other 


The  Moor  of  Venice , IV.  Hi 


109 


Dost  tliou  in  conscience  think,  tell  me,  Emilia, 

That  there  be  women  do  abuse  their  husbands 
In  such  gross  kind? 

Emil.  There  be  some  such,  no  question. 

Des.  Wouldst  thou  do  such  a deed  for  all  the 
world  ? 65 

Emil.  Why,  would  not  you? 

Des.  No,  by  this  heavenly  light! 

Emil.  Nor  I neither  by  this  heavenly  light; 

I might  do ’t  as  well  i’  the  dark.  68 

Des.  Wouldst  thou  do  such  a deed  for  all  the 
world  ? 

Emil.  The  world  is  a huge  thing;  ’tis  a great  price 
For  a small  vice. 

Des.  In  troth,  I think  thou  wouldst  not. 

Emil.  In  troth,  I think  I should,  and  undo ’t 
when  I had  done.  Marry,  I would  not  do  such 
a thing  for  a joint-ring,  nor  measures  of  lawn,  74 
nor  for  gowns,  petticoats,  nor  caps,  nor  any  petty 
exhibition;  but  for  the  whole  world,  who  would 
not  make  her  husband  a cuckold  to  make  him 
a monarch  ? I should  venture  purgatory  for ’t. 
Des.  Beshrew  me,  if  I would  do  such  a wrong 
For  the  whole  world.  80 

Emil.  Why,  the  wrong  is  but  a wrong  i’  the 
world;  and  having  the  world  for  your  labour, 
’tis  a wrong  in  your  own  world,  and  you  might 
quickly  make  it  right.  84 

Des.  I do  not  think  there  is  any  such  woman. 
Emil.  Yes,  a dozen;  and  as  many  to  the 
vantage,  as  would  store  the  world  they  played 
for.  88 

72,73  undo’t  . . . done : see  lines  81-84 
74  joint-ring:  ring  made  in  interlocking  halves 
86,87  to  . . . vantage:  to  boot,  in  addition 


110 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


But  I do  think  it  is  their  husbands’  faults 
If  wives  do  fall.  Say  that  they  slack  their  duties, 
And  pour  our  treasures  into  foreign  laps. 

Or  else  break  out  in  peevish  jealousies,  92 

Throwing  restraint  upon  us ; or,  say  they  strike  us. 
Or  scant  our  former  having  in  despite; 

Why,  we  have  galls,  and  though  we  have  some  grace. 
Yet  have  we  some  revenge.  Let  husbands  know 
Their  wives  have  sense  like  them;  they  see  and 
smell,  97 

And  have  their  palates  both  for  sweet  and  sour, 

As  husbands  have.  What  is  it  that  they  do 
When  they  change  us  for  others?  Is  it  sport? 

I think  it  is;  and  doth  affection  breed  it?  101 

I think  it  doth ; is ’t  frailty  that  thus  errs  ? 

It  is  so  too ; and  have  not  we  affections, 

Desires  for  sport,  and  frailty,  as  men  have?  104 

Then,  let  them  use  us  well ; else  let  them  know, 

The  ills  we  do,  their  ills  instruct  us  so. 

Ties.  Good  night,  good  night;  heaven  me  such  uses 
send, 

Not  to  pick  bad  from  bad,  but  by  bad  mend ! 108 

Exeunt. 


ACT  FIFTH 
Scene  One 

[ A Street  near  Bianca’s  lodging ] 

Enter  Iago  and  Roderigo. 

I ago.  Here,  stand  behind  this  bulk;  straight  will 
he  come: 

94  having:  allowance,  pin-money  despite:  spite 

95  galls:  spirit  to  resent  injury  97  sense:  sensations,  feelings 

101  affection : inclination  107  uses:  ways  of  conducting  myself 

108  Cf.n.  1 bulk:  projecting  shelter 


The  Moor  of  Venice , V.  i 


ill 


Wear  thy  good  rapier  bare,  and  put  it  home. 

Quick,  quick;  fear  nothing;  I’ll  be  at  thy  elbow. 

It  makes  us,  or  it  mars  us ; think  on  that,  4 

And  fix  most  firm  thy  resolution. 

Rod.  Be  near  at  hand;  I may  miscarry  in ’t. 

Iago.  Here,  at  thy  hand:  be  bold,  and  take  thy 
stand.  [ Retires .] 

Rod.  I have  no  great  devotion  to  the  deed;  8 

And  yet  he  has  given  me  satisfying  reasons: 

’Tis  but  a man  gone:  forth,  my  sword;  he  dies. 

Iago.  I have  rubb’d  this  young  quat  almost  to  the 
sense. 

And  he  grows  angry.  Now,  whether  he  kill 
Cassio,  12 

Or  Cassio  him,  or  each  do  kill  the  other. 

Every  way  makes  my  gain:  live  Roderigo, 

He  calls  me  to  a restitution  large 

Of  gold  and  jewels  that  I bobb’d  from  him,  16 

As  gifts  to  Desdemona; 

It  must  not  be : if  Cassio  do  remain. 

He  hath  a daily  beauty  in  his  life 
That  makes  me  ugly ; and,  besides,  the  Moor  20 

May  unfold  me  to  him ; there  stand  I in  much  peril. 
No,  he  must  die.  But  so — I hear  him  coming. 

Enter  Cassio. 

Rod.  I know  his  gait;  ’tis  he.  Villain,  thou  diest! 

[Makes  a pass  at  Cassio .] 
Cas.  That  thrust  had  been  mine  enemy  indeed  24 
But  that  my  coat  is  better  than  thou  know’st; 

I will  make  proof  of  thine. 

[Draws,  and  wounds  Roderigo."] 

II  quat:  pimple  (cf.  modern  ‘scab’)  sense:  quick 
16  bobb’d  from  him:  cheated  him  out  of 

25  coat:  i.e.,  he  wore  defensive  armor  under  his  outer  garments 


112 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Rod.  O!  I am  slain.  [ Falls .] 

[ Iago  from  behind  wounds  Cassio  in  the  leg,  and  exit .] 
Cas.  I am  maim’d  for  ever.  Help,  ho ! murder ! 
murder!  [Falls.] 

Enter  Othello  [at  a distance ]. 

Oth.  The  voice  of  Cassio:  Iago  keeps  his  word. 
Rod.  O!  villain  that  I am! 

Oth.  It  is  e’en  so.  29 

Cas.  O,  help,  ho  ! light ! a surgeon ! 

Oth.  ’Tis  he:  O brave  Iago,  honest  and  just, 

That  hast  such  noble  sense  of  thy  friend’s  wrong,  32 
Thou  teachest  me.  Minion,  your  dear  lies  dead, 

And  your  unblest  fate  hies;  strumpet,  I come! 

Forth  of  my  heart  those  charms,  thine  eyes,  are 
blotted ; 

Thy  bed  lust-stain’d  shall  with  lust’s  blood  be  spotted. 

Exit  Othello. 

Enter  Lodovico  and  Gratiano  [at  a distance ]. 

Cas.  What  ho!  no  watch?  no  passage?  murder! 

murder ! 37 

Gra.  ’Tis  some  mischance;  the  cry  is  very  direful. 
Cas.  O,  help ! 

Lod.  Hark ! 40 

Rod.  O wretched  villain! 

Eod.  Two  or  three  groan:  it  is  a heavy  night; 
These  may  be  counterfeits ; let’s  think ’t  unsafe 
To  come  in  to  the  cry  without  more  help.  44 

Rod.  Nobody  come?  then  shall  I bleed  to  death. 
Lod.  Hark! 

Enter  Iago,  with  a light. 

33  Minion : hussy  37  passage : passers-by  42  heavy : thick,  cloudy 


The  Moor  of  V enice,  V.  i 


113 


Gra.  Here’s  one  comes  in  his  shirt,  with  light  and 
weapons. 

Iago.  Who’s  there  ? whose  noise  is  this  that  cries  on 
murder  ? 48 

Lod.  We  do  not  know. 

Iago.  Did  not  you  hear  a cry? 

Cas.  Here,  here ! for  heaven’s  sake,  help  me. 

Iago.  What’s  the  matter? 

Gra.  This  is  Othello’s  ancient,  as  I take  it. 

Lod.  The  same  indeed ; a very  valiant  fellow. 

Iago.  What  are  you  here  that  cry  so  griev- 
ously ? 53 

Cas.  Iago  ? O ! I am  spoil’d,  undone  by  villains  ! 
Give  me  some  help. 

Iago.  O me,  lieutenant ! what  villains  have  done 
this  ? 56 

Cas.  I think  that  one  of  them  is  hereabout, 

And  cannot  make  away. 

Iago.  O treacherous  villains  ! 

[To  Lodovico  and  Gratiano.\  What  are  you  there? 
come  in,  and  give  some  help. 

Rod.  O ! help  me  here.  60 

Cas.  That’s  one  of  them. 

Iago.  O murderous  slave  ! O villain ! 

Roderigo.] 

Rod.  O damn’d  Iago!  O inhuman  dog! 

Iago.  Kill  men  i’  the  dark  ! Where  be  these  bloody 
thieves  ? 

How  silent  is  this  town ! Ho  ! murder ! murder ! 

What  may  you  be  ? are  you  of  good  or  evil  ? 65 

Lod.  As  you  shall  prove  us,  praise  us. 

Iago.  Signior  Lodovico? 

Lod.  He,  sir.  68 


48  cries  on:  cries  out,  calls 


66  praise:  appraise,  estimate 


114 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


Iago.  I cry  you  mercy.  Here’s  Cassio  hurt  by 
villains. 

Gra.  Cassio! 

Iago.  How  is  it,  brother? 

Cas.  My  leg  is  cut  in  two. 

Iago.  Marry,  heaven  forbid!  72 

Light,  gentlemen;  I’ll  bind  it  with  my  shirt. 

Enter  Bianca- 

Bian.  What  is  the  matter,  ho?  who  is ’t  that  cried? 
Iago.  Who  is ’t  that  cried ! 

Bian.  O my  dear  Cassio ! my  sweet  Cassio ! 76 

O Cassio,  Cassio,  Cassio! 

Iago.  O notable  strumpet ! Cassio,  may  you  suspect 
Who  they  should  be  that  have  thus  mangled  you  ? 

Cas.  No.  80 

Gra.  I am  sorry  to  find  you  thus ; I have  been  to 
seek  you. 

Iago.  Lend  me  a garter.  So.  O ! for  a chair. 

To  bear  him  easily  hence! 

Bian.  Alas ! he  faints ! O Cassio,  Cassio,  Cas- 
sio ! 84 

Iago.  Gentlemen  all,  I do  suspect  this  trash 
To  be  a party  in  this  injury. 

Patience  awhile,  good  Cassio.  Come,  come. 

Lend  me  a light.  Know  we  this  face,  or  no  ? 88 

Alas ! my  friend  and  my  dear  countryman, 

Roderigo?  no:  yes,  sure,  O heaven!  Roderigo. 

Gra.  What!  of  Venice? 

Iago.  Even  he,  sir:  did  you  know  him? 

Gra.  Know  him!  ay.  92 

Iago.  Signior  Gratiano?  I cry  you  gentle  pardon; 


82  chair:  sedan-chair,  litter 


The  Moor  of  Venice , V.  i 


115 


These  bloody  accidents  must  excuse  my  manners, 
That  so  neglected  you. 

Gra.  I am  glad  to  see  you. 

Iago.  How  do  you,  Cassio  ? Ola  chair,  a 
chair ! 96 

Gra.  Roderigo ! [A  chair  brought  in.] 

Iago.  He,  he,  ’tis  he. — O!  that’s  well  said;  the 
chair : 

Some  good  men  bear  him  carefully  from  hence; 

I’ll  fetch  the  general’s  surgeon.  [To  Bianca.~\  For  you, 
mistress,  loo 

Save  you  your  labour.  He  that  lies  slain  here,  Cassio, 
Was  my  dear  friend.  What  malice  was  between  you? 
Cas.  None  in  the  world;  nor  do  I know  the  man. 
Iago.  [To  Bianca.']  What!  look  you  pale?  O!  bear 
him  out  o’  the  air.  104 

[Cassio  and  Roderigo  are  borne  off.] 

Stay  you,  good  gentlemen.  Look  you  pale,  mis- 
tress ? — 

Do  you  perceive  the  gastness  of  her  eye? 

Nay,  if  you  stare,  we  shall  hear  more  anon. 

Behold  her  well;  I pray  you,  look  upon  her:  108 

Do  you  see,  gentlemen  ? nay,  guiltiness  will  speak 
Though  tongues  were  out  of  use. 

Enter  Emilia. 

Emil.  ’Las!  what’s  the  matter?  what’s  the  matter, 
husband  ? 

Iago.  Cassio  hath  here  been  set  on  in  the  dark  112 
By  Roderigo  and  fellows  that  are  ’scaped: 

He’s  almost  slain,  and  Roderigo  dead. 

Emil.  Alas!  good  gentleman;  alas!  good  Cassio! 


106  gastness:  ghastliness 


116 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Iago.  This  is  the  fruit  of  whoring.  Prithee, 
Emilia,  lie 

Go  know  of  Cassio  where  he  supp’d  to-night. 

What ! do  you  shake  at  that  ? 

Bian.  He  supp’d  at  my  house;  but  I therefore 
shake  not. 

Iago.  O ! did  he  so  ? I charge  you,  go  with  me. 
Emil.  Fie,  fie  upon  thee,  strumpet!  121 

Bian.  I am  no  strumpet,  but  of  life  as  honest 
As  you  that  thus  abuse  me. 

Emil.  As  I!  foh ! fie  upon  thee! 

Iago.  Kind,  gentlemen,  let’s  go  see  poor  Cassio 
dress’d.  124 

Come,  mistress,  you  must  tell  ’s  another  tale. 

Emilia,  run  you  to  the  citadel. 

And  tell  my  lord  and  lady  what  hath  happ’d. 

Will  you  go  on  afore?  [ Aside .]  This  is  the  night 
That  either  makes  me  or  fordoes  me  quite.  129 

Exeunt. 


Scene  Two 

\_A  Bedchamber  in  the  Castle ] 

Enter  Othello  with  a light,  and  Desdemona  in 
her  bed. 

Oth.  It  is  the  cause,  it  is  the  cause,  my  soul; 

Let  me  not  name  it  to  you,  you  chaste  stars  ! 

It  is  the  cause.  Yet  I’ll  not  shed  her  blood, 

Nor  scar  that  whiter  skin  of  hers  than  snow,  4, 

And  smooth  as  monumental  alabaster. 

Yet  she  must  die,  else  she’ll  betray  more  men. 

Put  out  the  light,  and  then  put  out  the  light: 


117  know:  learn  129  fordoes:  unmakes,  destroys 

Scene  Two  S.  d.  Enter  . . . bed;  cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice , V.  ii 


117 


If  I quench  thee,  thou  flaming  minister,  8 

I can  again  thy  former  light  restore, 

Should  I repent  me;  but  once  put  out  thy  light, 

Thou  cunning’st  pattern  of  excelling  nature, 

I know  not  where  is  that  Promethean  heat  12 

That  can  thy  light  relume.  When  I have  pluck’d  the 
rose, 

I cannot  give  it  vital  growth  again, 

It  needs  must  wither:  I’ll  smell  it  on  the  tree. 

Kisses  her. 

0 balmy  breath,  that  dost  almost  persuade  lfi 

Justice  to  break  her  sword ! One  more,  one  more. 

Be  thus  when  thou  art  dead,  and  I will  kill  thee, 

And  love  thee  after.  One  more,  and  this  the  last: 

So  sweet  was  ne’er  so  fatal.  I must  weep,  20 

But  they  are  cruel  tears;  this  sorrow’s  heavenly. 

It  strikes  where  it  doth  love.  She  wakes. 

Des.  Who’s  there?  Othello? 

Oth.  Ay,  Desdemona. 

Des.  Will  you  come  to  bed,  my  lord?  24 

Oth.  Have  you  pray’d  to-night,  Desdemona? 

Des.  Ay,  my  lord. 

Oth.  If  you  bethink  yourself  of  any  crime 
Unreconcil’d  as  yet  to  heaven  and  grace. 

Solicit  for  it  straight.  28 

Des.  Alas ! my  lord,  what  may  you  mean  by  that  ? 
Oth.  Well,  do  it,  and  be  brief;  I will  walk  by: 

1 would  not  kill  thy  unprepared  spirit; 

No;  heaven  forfend ! I would  not  kill  thy  soul. 

Des.  Talk  you  of  killing? 

Oth.  Ay,  I do. 


12  Promethean  heat:  divine  fire ; cf.  n. 
27  grace : God’s  mercy 
30  by:  aside , apart 


13  relume:  rekindle 
28  Solicit:  pray 
32  forfend:  forbid 


118 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Des.  Then  heaven  33 

Have  mercy  on  me ! 

Oth.  Amen ! with  all  my  heart. 

Des.  If  you  say  so,  I hope  you  will  not  kill  me. 
Oth.  Hum!  36 

Des.  And  yet  I fear  you ; for  you  are  fatal  then 
When  your  eyes  roll  so.  Why  I should  fear  I know 
not. 

Since  guiltiness  I know  not;  but  yet  I feel  I fear. 

Oth.  Think  on  thy  sins. 

Des.  They  are  loves  I bear  to  you.  40 

Oth.  Ay,  and  for  that  thou  diest. 

Des.  That  death’s  unnatural  that  kills  for  loving. 
Alas ! why  gnaw  you  so  your  nether  lip  ? 

Some  bloody  passion  shakes  your  very  frame;  44 
These  are  portents,  but  yet,  I hope,  I hope 
They  do  not  point  on  me. 

Oth.  Peace,  and  be  still! 

Des.  I will  so.  What’s  the  matter? 

Oth.  That  handkerchief  which  I so  lov’d  and  gave 
thee  48 

Thou  gav’st  to  Cassio. 

Des.  No,  by  my  life  and  soul ! 

Send  for  the  man  and  ask  him. 

Oth.  Sweet  soul,  take  heed. 

Take  heed  of  per j ury ; thou’rt  on  thy  death-bed. 

Des.  Ay,  but  not  yet  to  die. 

Oth.  Yes,  presently;  52 

Therefore  confess  thee  freely  of  thy  sin; 

For  to  deny  each  article  with  oath 
Cannot  remove  nor  choke  the  strong  conception 
That  I do  groan  withal.  Thou  art  to  die.  56 

Des.  Then  Lord  have  mercy  on  me ! 

Oth.  I say,  amen. 


The  Moor  of  Venice , V.  ii 


119 


Des.  And  have  you  mercy  too ! I never  did 
Offend  you  in  my  life;  never  lov’d  Cassio 
But  with  such  general  warranty  of  heaven  60 

As  I might  love ; I never  gave  him  token. 

Oth.  By  heaven,  I saw  my  handkerchief  in’s  hand. 

0 perjur’d  woman ! thou  dost  stone  my  heart. 

And  mak’st  me  call  what  I intend  to  do  64 

A murder,  which  I thought  a sacrifice : 

1 saw  the  handkerchief. 

Des.  He  found  it  then; 

I never  gave  it  him.  Send  for  him  hither ; 

Let  him  confess  a truth. 

Oth.  He  hath  confess’d.  68 

Des.  What,  my  lord? 

Oth.  That  he  hath  us’d  thee. 

Des.  How  ? unlawfully  ? 

Oth.  Ay. 

Des.  He  will  not  say  so. 

Oth.  No;  his  mouth  is  stopp’d: 

Honest  Iago  hath  ta’en  order  for ’t.  72 

Des.  O!  my  fear  interprets.  What!  is  he  dead? 
Oth.  Had  all  his  hairs  been  lives,  my  great  revenge 
Had  stomach  for  them  all. 

Des.  Alas ! he  is  betray’d  and  I undone.  76 

Oth.  Out,  strumpet!  Weep’st  thou  for  him  to  my 
face  ? 

Des.  O ! banish  me,  my  lord,  but  kill  me  not! 

Oth.  Down,  strumpet! 

Des.  Kill  me  to-morrow ; let  me  live  to-night ! 

Oth.  Nay,  if  you  strive, — 81 

Des.  But  half  an  hour ! 

Oth.  Being  done,  there  is  no  pause. 


60  general  . . . heaven:  permission  granted  by  heaven  to  all 
63  stone:  make  stony  72  order:  measures 

75  stomach:  appetite  82  Being  . . . pause;  cf.  n. 


120 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Des.  But  while  I say  one  prayer! 

Oth.  It  is  too  late.  Smothers  her. 

Emilia  at  the  door. 

Emil.  [ within .]  My  lord,  my  lord!  what,  ho!  my 
lord,  my  lord!  84 

Oth.  What  noise  is  this?  Not  dead?  not  yet  quite 
dead? 

I that  am  cruel  am  yet  merciful; 

I would  not  have  thee  linger  in  thy  pain. 

So,  so. 

Emil,  within.  What,  ho ! ray  lord,  my  lord ! 

Oth.  Who’s  there?  88 

Emil,  [within.']  O ! good  my  lord,  I would  speak 
a word  with  you ! 

Oth.  Yes;  ’tis  Emilia:  by  and  by.  She’s  dead. 

’Tis  like  she  comes  to  speak  of  Cassio’s  death; 

The  noise  was  high.  Ha!  no  more  moving?  92 

Still  as  the  grave.  Shall  she  come  in?  Were ’t  good? 
I think  she  stirs  again:  no.  What’s  best  to  do? 

If  she  come  in  she’ll  sure  speak  to  my  wife: 

My  wife!  my  wife!  what  wife?  I have  no  wife: 

O,  insupportable  ! O heavy  hour ! 9T 

Methinks  it  should  be  now  a huge  eclipse 
Of  sun  and  moon,  and  that  the  affrighted  globe 
Should  yawn  at  alteration. 

Emil,  [within.]  I do  beseech  you  loo 

That  I may  speak  with  you,  O good  my  lord. 

Oth.  I had  forgot  thee:  O!  come  in,  Emilia: 

Soft,  by  and  by:  let  me  the  curtains  draw. 

Where  art  thou?  [Unlocks  the  door.] 

Enter  Emilia. 


92  The  . . . high;  cf.  n. 

100  yawn  at  alteration;  cf.  n. 


103  Soft:  stop,  wait 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  V.  ii 


121 


What’s  the  matter  with  thee  now?  104 
Emil.  O ! my  good  lord,  yonder’s  foul  murder  done. 
Oth.  What!  now? 

Emil.  But  now,  my  lord. 

Oth.  It  is  the  very  error  of  the  moon; 

She  comes  more  near  the  earth  than  she  was 
wont,  108 

And  makes  men  mad. 

Emil.  Cassio,  my  lord,  has  kill’d  a young  Venetian 
Call’d  Roderigo. 

Oth.  Roderigo  kill’d! 

And  Cassio  kill’d? 

Emil.  No,  Cassio  is  not  kill’d  112 

Oth.  Not  Cassio  kill’d!  then  murder’s  out  of  tune. 
And  sweet  revenge  grows  harsh. 

Des.  O!  falsely,  falsely  murder  d. 

Emil.  Alas!  what  cry  is  that? 

Oth.  That!  what?  116 

Emil.  Out,  and  alas!  that  was  my  lady’s  voice: 
Help  ! Help,  ho  ! help  ! O lady,  speak  again ! 

Sweet  Desdemona ! O ! sweet  mistress,  speak. 

Des.  A guiltless  death  I die.  120 

Emil.  O ! who  hath  done  this  deed? 

Des.  Nobody;  I myself;  farewell: 

Commend  me  to  my  kind  lord.  O ! farewell ! 

[Dies.] 

Oth.  Why,  how  should  she  be  murder’d? 

Emil.  Alas!  who  knows?  124 

Oth.  You  heard  her  say  herself  it  was  not  I. 

Emil.  She  said  so;  I must  needs  report  the  truth. 
Oth.  She’s  like  a liar  gone  to  burning  hell; 

Twas  I that  kill’d  her. 


106  But:  just 


107  error:  aberration,  deviation 


122 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


Emil.  O ! the  more  angel  she. 

And  you  the  blacker  devil.  129 

Oth.  She  turn’d  to  folly,  and  she  was  a whore. 
Emil.  Thou  dost  belie  her,  and  thou  art  a devil. 
Oth.  She  was  false  as  water. 

Emil.  Thou  art  rash  as  fire  to  say 

That  she  was  false : O ! she  was  heavenly  true.  133 
Oth.  Cassio  did  tup  her;  ask  thy  husband  else. 

O ! I were  damn’d  beneath  all  depth  in  hell 

But  that  I did  proceed  upon  just  grounds  136 

To  this  extremity.  Thy  husband  knew  it  all. 

Emil.  My  husband! 

Oth.  Thy  husband. 

Emil.  That  she  was  false  to  wedlock?  140 

Oth.  Ay,  with  Cassio.  Nay,  had  she  been  true, 

If  heaven  would  make  me  such  another  world 
Of  one  entire  and  perfect  chrysolite, 

I’d  not  have  sold  her  for  it.  144 

Emil.  My  husband! 

Oth.  Ay,  ’twas  he  that  told  me  first: 

An  honest  man  he  is,  and  hates  the  slime 
That  sticks  on  filthy  deeds. 

Emil.  My  husband! 

Oth.  What  needs  this  iterance,  woman?  I say  thy 
husband.  148 

Emil.  O mistress ! villainy  hath  made  mocks  with 
love. 

My  husband  say  that  she  was  false ! 

Oth.  He,  woman; 

I say,  thy  husband:  dost  understand  the  word? 

My  friend,  thy  husband,  honest,  honest  Iago.  152 
Emil.  If  he  say  so,  may  his  pernicious  soul 


130  folly:  unchastity  142  such  another:  another  such 

143  chrysolite : a precious  stone  148  iterance:  repetition 

149  made  mocks  with:  made  a dupe  of 


The  Moor  of  Venice , V.  ii 


123 


Rot  half  a grain  a day ! he  lies  to  the  heart: 

She  was  too  fond  of  her  most  filthy  bargain. 

Oth.  Ha!  156 

Emil.  Do  thy  worst: 

This  deed  of  thine  is  no  more  worthy  heaven 
Than  thou  wast  worthy  her. 

Oth.  Peace ! you  were  best. 

Emil.  Thou  hast  not  half  the  power  tu  do  me 
harm  160 

As  I have  to  be  hurt.  O gull ! O dolt ! 

As  ignorant  as  dirt ! thou  hast  done  a deed, — 

I care  not  for  thy  sword ; I’ll  make  thee  known. 
Though  I lost  twenty  lives.  Help ! help,  ho ! 

help ! 164 

The  Moor  has  kill’d  my  mistress  ! Murder ! murder ! 

Enter  Montano,  Gratiano,  and  Iago  [ with 
Attendants ]. 

Mon.  What  is  the  matter?  How  now,  general! 
Emil.  O!  are  you  come,  Iago?  you  have  done  well, 
That  men  must  lay  their  murders  on  your  neck. 

Gra.  What  is  the  matter  ? 169 

Emil.  Disprove  this  villain  if  thou  be’st  a man: 

He  says  thou  told’st  him  that  his  wife  was  false. 

I know  thou  didst  not,  thou’rt  not  such  a villain. 
Speak,  for  my  heart  is  full.  173 

Iago.  I told  him  what  I thought,  and  told  no  more 
Than  what  he  found  himself  was  apt  and  true. 

Emil.  But  did  you  ever  tell  him  she  was  false?  176 
Iago.  I did. 

Emil.  You  told  a lie,  an  odious  damned  lie; 

Upon  my  soul,  a lie,  a wicked  lie. 

She  false  with  Cassio ! Did  you  say  with  Cassio? 


161  gull:  fool 


124 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


Iago.  With  Cassio,  mistress.  Go  to,  charm  your 
tongue.  181 

Emil.  I will  not  charm  my  tongue;  I am  bound  to 
speak. 

My  mistress  here  lies  murder’d  in  her  bed. 

All.  O heavens  forfend!  184 

Emil.  And  your  reports  have  set  the  murder  on. 
Oth.  Nay,  stare  not,  masters;  it  is  true,  indeed. 
Gra.  ’Tis  a strange  truth. 

Mon.  O monstrous  act! 

Emil.  Villainy!  villainy!  villainy! 

I think  upon ’t,  I think,  I smell ’t ; O villainy ! 189 

I thought  so  then;  I’ll  kill  myself  for  grief. 

0 ! villainy,  villainy ! 

Iago.  What ! are  you  mad  ? I charge  you,  get  you 
home.  192 

Emil.  Good  gentlemen,  let  me  have  leave  to  speak: 
’Tis  proper  I obey  him,  but  not  now. 

Perchance,  Iago,  I will  ne’er  go  home. 

Oth.  Oh ! Oh  ! Oh ! Othello  falls  on  the  bed. 

Emil.  Nay,  lay  thee  down  and  roar. 

For  thou  hast  kill’d  the  sweetest  innocent  197 

That  e’er  did  lift  up  eye. 

Oth.  O ! she  was  foul. 

1 scarce  did  know  you,  uncle.  There  lies  your  niece. 

Whose  breath,  indeed,  these  hands  have  newly 

stopp’d:  200 

I know  this  act  shows  terrible  and  grim. 

Gra.  Poor  Desdemona ! I am  glad  thy  father’s 
dead. 

Thy  match  was  mortal  to  him,  and  pure  grief 
Shore  his  old  thread  in  twain : did  he  live  now,  204 


181  charm:  silence,  as  if  by  a magic  spell 


204  Shore:  cut 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  V.  ii 


125 


This  sight  would  make  him  do  a desperate  turn, 

Yea,  curse  his  better  angel  from  his  side, 

And  fall  to  reprobation. 

Oth.  ’Tis  pitiful;  but  yet  Iago  knows  208 

That  she  with  Cassio  hath  the  act  of  shame 
A thousand  times  committed;  Cassio  confess’d  it: 

And  she  did  gratify  his  amorous  works 

With  that  recognizance  and  pledge  of  love  212 

Which  I first  gave  her.  I saw  it  in  his  hand: 

It  was  a handkerchief,  an  antique  token 
My  father  gave  my  mother. 

Emil.  O heaven!  O heavenly  powers! 

Iago.  Come,  hold  your  peace. 

Emil.  'Twill  out,  ’twill  out;  I hold  my  peace,  sir? 
no;  217 

No,  I will  speak  as  liberal  as  the  north; 

Let  heaven  and  men  and  devils,  let  them  all, 

All,  all,  cry  shame  against  me,  yet  I’ll  speak.  220 
Iago.  Be  wise,  and  get  you  home. 

Emil.  I will  not. 

[ Iago  threatens  to  stab  Emilia.\ 
Gra.  Fie! 

Your  sword  upon  a woman? 

Emil.  O thou  dull  Moor!  that  handkerchief  thou 
speak’st  of 

I found  by  fortune  and  did  give  my  husband; 

For  often,  with  a solemn  earnestness,  225 

More  than,  indeed,  belong’d  to  such  a trifle, 

He  begg’d  of  me  to  steal  it. 

Iago.  Villainous  whore ! 

Emil.  She  give  it  Cassio  ! no,  alas  ! I found  it,  228 
And  I did  give ’t  my  husband. 

205  do  . . . turn:  commit  some  desperate  deed 

207  reprobation:  damnation  212  recognizance:  token _ 215  Cf.  n. 

218  as  . . . north:  as  freely  and  strongly  as  the  north  wind 


126 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


Iago.  Filth,  thou  liest! 

Emil.  By  heaven,  I do  not,  I do  not,  gentlemen. 

O murderous  coxcomb ! what  should  such  a fool  231 
Do  with  so  good  a wife? 

Oth.  Are  there  no  stones  in  heaven 

But  what  serve  for  the  thunder?  Precious  villain! 
[He  runs  at  Iago.  Iago  stabs  Emilia,  and  exit.'] 
Gra.  The  woman  falls:  sure,  he  has  kill’d  his  wife. 
Emil.  Ay,  ay;  O ! lay  me  by  my  mistress’  side. 

Gra.  He’s  gone;  but  his  wife’s  kill’d.  236 

Mon.  ’Tis  a notorious  villain.  Take  ,you  this 
weapon, 

Which  I have  here  recover’d  from  the  Moor. 

Come,  guard  the  door  without;  let  him  not  pass. 

But  kill  him  rather.  I’ll  after  that  same  villain, 

For  ’tis  a damned  slave.  Exit  [with  Gratiano]. 

Oth.  I am  not  valiant  neither,  241 

But  every  puny  whipster  gets  my  sword. 

But  why  should  honour  outlive  honesty? 

Let  it  go  all. 

Emil.  What  did  thy  song  bode,  lady?  244 

Hark,  canst  thou  hear  me?  I will  play  the  swan, 
And  die  in  music:  [Singing] 

‘Willow,  willow,  willow.’ — 

Moor,  she  was  chaste;  she  lov’d  thee,  cruel  Moor; 

So  come  my  soul  to  bliss  as  I speak  true;  249 

So  speaking  as  I think,  I die,  I die.  [Dies.] 

Oth.  I have  another  weapon  in  this  chamber; 

It  is  a sword  of  Spain,  the  ice  brook’s  temper. 

O ! here  it  is.  Uncle,  I must  come  forth.  253 

232  stones:  bolts  238  recover’d:  taken 

242  whipster:  (cf.  modern  whipper-snapper)  stripling 

243  honour:  mere  dignity  honesty : fundamental  righteousness 
2S2  the  . . . temper : tempered  in  icy  water ; cf.  n. 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  V.  ii 


127 


Gra.  [within.]  If  thou  attempt  it,  it  will  cost  thee 
dear: 

Thou  hast  no  weapon,  and  perforce  must  suffer. 

Oth.  Look  in  upon  me  then,  and  speak  with 
me,  256 

Or,  naked  as  I am,  I will  assault  thee. 

[Enter  Gratiano.] 

Gra.  What  is  the  matter? 

Oth.  Behold!  I have  a weapon; 

A better  never  did  itself  sustain 

Upon  a soldier’s  thigh:  I have  seen  the  day,  260 

That  with  this  little  arm,  and  this  good  sword, 

I have  made  my  way  through  more  impediments 
Than  twenty  times  your  stop:  but.  O vain  boast ! 
Who  can  control  his  fate?  ’tis  not  so  now.  264 

Be  not  afraid,  though  you  do  see  me  weapon’d; 

Here  is  my  journey’s  end,  here  is  my  butt, 

And  very  sea-mark  of  my  utmost  sail. 

Do  you  go  back  dismay’d?  ’Tis  a lost  fear;  268 

Man  but  a rush  against  Othello’s  breast. 

And  he  retires.  Where  should  Othello  go? 

Now  how  dost  thou  look  now?  O ill-starr’d  wench! 
Pale  as  thy  smock ! when  we  shall  meet  at  compt,  272 
This  look  of  thine  will  hurl  my  soul  from  heaven, 
And  fiends  will  snatch  at  it.  Cold,  cold,  my  girl ! 
Even  like  thy  chastity. 

O ! cursed,  cursed  slave.  Whip  me,  ye  devils,  276 
From  the  possession  of  this  heavenly  sight! 

Blow  me  about  in  winds ! roast  me  in  sulphur ! 

Wash  me  in  steep-down  gulfs  of  liquid  fire ! 

257  naked : unarmed  (as  Gratiano  supposed) 

263  stop:  power  of  prevention  266  butt:  goal  (literally , target) 

267  sea-mark:  beacon,  limit  268  lost : wasted,  unnecessary 

269  Man:  wield  272  compt:  reckoning,  on  the  Judgment  Day 

277  possession:  flaunting  obsession 


128 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


O Desdemona!  Desdemona!  dead!  280 

Oh!  Oh!  Oh! 

Enter  Lodovico,  Montano,  Iago  [prisoner],  and 
Officers,  Cassio  in  a chair. 

Lod.  Where  is  this  rash  and  most  unfortunate  man  ? 
Oth.  That’s  he  that  was  Othello;  here  I am. 

Lod.  Where  is  that  viper?  bring  the  villain 
forth.  284 

Oth.  I look  down  towards  his  feet;  but  that’s  a 
fable. 

If  that  thou  be’st  a devil,  I cannot  kill  thee. 

[ Wounds  Iago .] 

Lod.  Wrench  his  sword  from  him. 

Iago.  I bleed,  sir;  but  not  kill’d. 

Oth.  I am  not  sorry  neither;  I’d  have  thee 
live ; 288 

For,  in  my  sense,  ’tis  happiness  to  die. 

Lod.  O thou  Othello ! that  wert  once  so  good, 
Fall’n  in  the  practice  of  a damned  slave. 

What  shall  be  said  to  thee? 

Oth.  Why,  any  thing:  292 

An  honourable  murderer,  if  you  will; 

For  nought  did  I in  hate,  but  all  in  honour. 

Lod.  This  wretch  hath  part  confess’d  his  villainy: 
Did  you  and  he  consent  in  Cassio’s  death?  296 

Oth.  Ay. 

Cas.  Dear  general,  I never  gave  you  cause. 

Oth.  I do  believe  it,  and  I ask  your  pardon. 

Will  you,  I pray,  demand  that  demi-devil  300 

Why  he  hath  thus  ensnar’d  my  soul  and  body? 

Iago.  Demand  me  nothing:  what  you  know,  you 
know: 


285  I look  for  the  devil’s  outward  sign,  a cloven  hoof 


The  Moor  of  Venice,  V.  ii 


129 


From  this  time  forth  I never  will  speak  word. 

Lod.  What ! not  to  pray  ? 

Gra.  Torments  will  ope  your  lips. 

Oth.  Well,  thou  dost  best.  305 

Lod.  Sir,  you  shall  understand  what  hath  befall’n, 
Which,  as  I think,  you  know  not.  Here  is  a letter 
Found  in  the  pocket  of  the  slain  Roderigo,  308 

And  here  another ; the  one  of  them  imports 
The  death  of  Cassio  to  be  undertook 
By  Roderigo.  311 

Oth.  O villain ! 

Cas.  Most  heathenish  and  most  gross ! 

Lod.  Now  here’s  another  discontented  paper. 
Found  in  his  pocket  too;  and  this,  it  seems, 

Roderigo  meant  to  have  sent  this  damned  villain. 

But  that,  belike,  Iago  in  the  interim  316 

Came  in  and  satisfied  him. 

Oth.  O the  pernicious  caitiff! 

How  came  you,  Cassio,  by  that  handkerchief 
That  was  my  wife’s? 

Cas.  I found  it  in  my  chamber; 

And  he  himself  confess’d  but  even  now  320 

That  there  he  dropp’d  it  for  a special  purpose 
Which  wrought  to  his  desire. 

Oth.  O fool!  fool!  fool! 

Cas.  There  is  besides  in  Roderigo’s  letter 
How  he  upbraids  Iago  that  he  made  him  324 

Brave  me  upon  the  watch;  whereon  it  came 
That  I was  cast:  and  even  but  now  he  spake. 

After  long  seeming  dead,  Iago  hurt  him, 

Iago  set  him  on.  328 

Lod.  You  must  forsake  this  room  and  go  with  us; 
Your  power  and  your  command  is  taken  off, 


330  taken  off:  taken  away 


130 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


And  Cassio  rules  in  Cyprus.  For  this  slave, 

If  there  be  any  cunning  cruelty  332 

That  can  torment  him  much  and  hold  him  long, 

It  shall  be  his.  You  shall  close  prisoner  rest. 

Till  that  the  nature  of  your  fault  be  known 
To  the  Venetian  state.  Come,  bring  him  away. 

Oth.  Soft  you;  a word  or  two  before  you  go.  337 
I have  done  the  state  some  service,  and  they  know ’t; 
No  more  of  that.  I pray  you,  in  your  letters, 

When  you  shall  these  unlucky  deeds  relate,  340 

Speak  of  me  as  I am;  nothing  extenuate, 

Nor  set  down  aught  in  malice:  then  must  you  speak 
Of  one  that  lov’d  not  wisely  but  too  well;  343 

Of  one  not  easily  jealous,  but,  being  wrought, 
Perplex’d  in  the  extreme;  of  one  whose  hand, 

Like  the  base  Indian,  threw  a pearl  away 
Richer  than  all  his  tribe;  of  one  whose  subdu’d  eyes, 
Albeit  unused  to  the  melting  mood,  348 

Drop  tears  as  fast  as  the  Arabian  trees 
Their  medicinable  gum.  Set  you  down  this; 

And  say  besides,  that  in  Aleppo  once. 

Where  a malignant  and  a turban’d  Turk  352 

Beat  a Venetian  and  traduc’d  the  state, 

I took  by  the  throat  the  circumcised  dog, 

And  smote  him  thus.  Stabs  himself. 

Lod.  O bloody  period! 

Gra.  All  that’s  spoke  is  marr’d, 

Oth.  I kiss’d  thee  ere  I kilTcl  thee ; no  way  but 
this,  [ Falling  upon  Desdemona .] 

Killing  myself  to  die  upon  a kiss.  Dies. 

Cas.  This  did  I fear,  but  thought  he  had  no 
weapon ; 

344  wrought:  wrought  upon,  worked  up 

345  Perplex’d:  desperately  troubled 

346  Indian;  cf.  n.  356  period : ending,  close 


The  Moor  of  Venice , V.  ii 


131 


For  he  was  great  of  heart. 

Lod.  [To  Iago.~\  O Spartan  dog!  360 

More  fell  than  anguish,  hunger,  or  the  sea. 

Look  on  the  tragic  loading  of  this  bed; 

This  is  thy  work;  the  object  poisons  sight; 

Let  it  be  hid.  Gratiano,  keep  the  house,  364 

And  seize  upon  the  fortunes  of  the  Moor, 

For  they  succeed  on  you.  To  you,  lord  governor, 
Remains  the  censure  of  this  hellish  villain, 

The  time,  the  place,  the  torture ; O ! enforce  it. 

Myself  will  straight  aboard,  and  to  the  state  369 

This  heavy  act  with  heavy  heart  relate.  Exeunt. 

360  Spartan:  for  fierceness  and  taciturnity  361  fell : deadly 

365  seize  upon:  take  legal  possession  of 
367  censure:  judicial  sentencing 


FINIS. 


NOTES 


I.  i.  4.  ’Sblood.  An  oath,  contracted  from  ‘God’s 
blood’ ; as  ’Zounds,  line  86  below,  is  a contraction 
from  ‘God’s  wounds,’ — the  reference  in  both  cases 
being  to  Christ  (as  of  one  substance  with  God)  on 
the  cross.  In  1605  the  superstitiously  pious  King 
James  caused  an  Act  to  be  passed  forbidding  swear- 
ing, blasphemy,  etc.,  on  the  stage,  and  accordingly 
these  oaths  are  omitted  in  the  1623  edition  of  the 
play,  while  other  similar  expressions  throughout  are 
either  omitted  or  softened;  cf.  Iago’s  mild  ejaculation 
in  IV.  i.  147. 

I.  i.  13.  bombast  circumstance.  Bombast  was  a 
cheap  kind  of  cotton  stuff  used  for  padding  Elizabe- 
than garments ; the  obvious  metaphorical  use  was  very 
common. 

I.  i.  21.  Here,  on  the  very  threshold,  is  a serious 
stumbling-block.  Cassio  has  no  wife,  in  the  play. 
This  may  be  an  accidental  echo  of  Shakespeare’s 
source,  for  Cassio’s  prototype  has  a wife  in  Cinthio’s 
novel  (cf.  Appendix  A)  ; or  it  may  be  a mere  trick, 
an  effective  line  put  in  for  the  moment,  regardless  of 
the  later  inconsistency,  relying  upon  the  audience’s 
inability  to  apply  to  the  play  the  minute  cross- 
examination  possible  in  the  study.  (If  any  emenda- 
tion be  adopted,  Tyrwhitt’s  suggestion  of  ‘life’  for 
‘wife’  seems  most  plausible:  the  sense  then  being  ‘too 
civil  by  half,’  ‘too  good  to  be  true,’  etc.,  in  keeping 
with  Iago’s  later  criticism  in  V.  i.  18-20.) 

I.  i.  30.  belee’d  and  calm’d.  A nautical  metaphor, 
meaning  ‘Have  the  wind  (of  Othello’s  favor)  taken 
from  my  sails:  be  superseded  by  this  interloper.’ 

I.  i.  31.  By  debitor  and  creditor.  ‘By  a dealer  in 
irrelevant  technicalities.’ 


The  Moor  of  V enice 


133 


counter-caster.  ‘One  who  casts  accounts,  or  reckons 
by  counters’;  cf.  Iago’s  earlier  term,  arithmetician, 
line  19  above.  These  expressions  are  all  intended  to 
cast  contempt  on  Cassio  as  a man  of  books  and  figures, 
not  of  warlike  deeds. 

I.  i.  33.  God  bless  the  mark!  Originally  this  was 
a pious  formula  to  avert  the  consequences  of  an  evil 
omen ; then,  by  ironical  inversion,  it  came  to  be  a con- 
temptuous interjection  equivalent  to  ‘forsooth’  or  a 
mild  oath. 

ancient.  This  spelling  represents  the  way  in  which 
the  word  ‘ensign’  was  pronounced.  Cassio  and  Iago 
were  of  much  higher  rank  than  their  titles  indicate, 
for  they  were  staff-officers,  the  commander-in-chief’s 
immediate  aides. 

I.  i.  39.  in  any  . . . affin’d.  ‘Am  on  any  such 
footing  (terms)  with  him  as  to  be  bound’;  or  ‘in  any 
just  sentence  (opinion,  manner  of  speaking)  am 
bound.’ 

I.  i.  63.  complement.  In  spite  of  the  unanimity  of 
all  the  Quartos  and  Folios  on  this  point,  most  editors 
have  followed  Rowe  in  spelling  and  interpreting  this 
word  as  compliment,  ‘outward  ceremony’;  but  in  its 
original  form  the  word  may  mean  ‘a  completing 
accessory  or  adjunct’  (N.  E.  D.),  a corresponding 
indication,  or  counterpart,  which  would  make  better 
sense  here. 

I.  i.  124.  The  tedious  time  about  midnight;  a 
‘toss-up,’  indeterminate  odd  or  even,  as  to  whether  it 
be  the  last  moments  of  one  day  or  the  first  of  the 
next. 

I.  i.  137.  There  is  a reference  here  to  Othello’s 
being  a ‘soldier  of  fortune,’  not  a native  of  Venice. 
Venetian  law  required  that  the  commander-in-chief 
of  Venetian  forces  should  be  a politically  disqualified 
alien,  so  that  no  political  ambition  might  distract  him 
from  the  strict  performance  of  his  military  duties  and 
jeopardize  the  welfare  of  the  state. 


134 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


I.  i.  151.  Cyprus  wars.  The  historical  date  at 
which  the  action  of  the  play  took  place  has  usually 
been  given  as  1570,  on  the  strength  of  Reed’s  asser- 
tion that  in  that  year  ‘Mustapha,  Selymus’  general, 
attacked  Cyprus,’  after  having  effected  a junction 
with  another  Turkish  fleet  at  Rhodes.  But  in  the 
play  (1)  the  Turks  did  not  ‘attack’  Cyprus,  and 
(2)  they  were  reported  (I.  iff.  14-31)  as  intending  to 
‘attack’  Rhodes — which  had  been  in  their  hands  since 
1522.  The  date  of  the  action  of  the  play  must  there- 
fore be  placed  between  1471,  the  year  in  which  the 
Venetians  assumed  virtual  sovereignty  of  Cyprus,  and 
1522,  the  year  in  which  the  Turks  became  masters 
of  Rhodes.  The  Turkish  expedition  described  in  the 
play  must  then  have  been  either  too  abortive  for 
record  in  history,  or  entirely  fictitious:  for  none  such 
is  known,  between  those  dates  [according  to  Malone 
and  Reed  (Furness,  357) ; but  the  ‘hypothetical 
attack’  cited  in  Appendix  A ( 1 ) as  ‘meditated,  accord- 
ing to  report’  in  1508  (Furness,  374)  would  satisfy 
all  Shakespeare’s  requirements], 

I.  ii.  13,  14.  ‘And  has,  in  actual  effect  (though  not 
by  law),  an  influence  as  weighty  as  the  Duke’s 
own.’  Iago  was  simply  ‘talking  big’  in  order  to  alarm 
Othello  by  exaggerating  Brabantio’s  importance. 

I.  ii.  23.  The  word  ‘unbonneted’  cannot  be  cer- 
tainly explained,  but  the  general  sense  of  the  passage 
is  clear:  Othello,  unknown  to  Brabantio,  is  of  royal 
descent  and  may  therefore  properly  enter,  without 
sign  or  sense  of  inferiority,  even  upon  the  high  es- 
tate of  matrimonial  alliance  with  Brabantio’s  family. 

I.  ii.  26.  unhoused.  Possibly  merely  ‘unmarried’ ; 
but  probably  ‘unhampered,’  free  as  the  open  air;  just 
the  opposite  of  ‘cabin’d,  cribb’d,  confin’d,’  Macbeth 
III.  iv.  24. 

I.  ii.  75.  motion.  The  commentators  are  uncertain 
here.  Perhaps  ‘motion’  means  ‘power  of  motion’  (as 
in  Romeo  and  Juliet  III.  ii.  59),  and  thus  ‘self- 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


135 


control.’  Cf.  our  modern  phrase  ‘of  one’s  own 
motion,’  which  dates  back  to  1426,  according  to  the 
Oxford  Dictionary. — Ritson  paraphrases:  ‘impair  the 
faculties.’ 

I.  ii.  98,  99.  ‘If  Othello  is  allowed  to  commit  such 
an  outrage  with  impunity,  Venice  may  just  as  well 
give  over  the  governing  power  outright  to  him  and 
his  kind  (slaves  and  aliens).’ 

I.  iii.  S.  d.  Enter  . . . attendants.  A typical 
specimen  of  the  quaint  stage  directions  frequent  in 
early  plays. 

I.  iii.  10-12.  ‘I  do  not  feel  so  reassured  by  the 
mere  discrepancy  in  detail  as  not  to  credit,  with 
dreadful  apprehensions,  the  underlying  main  point.’ 

I.  iii.  95.  motion.  The  commentators  suggest 
‘impulse,’  ‘natural  desires,’  etc. ; yet  the  usual  modern 
meaning  of  the  word  is  not  impossible:  ‘so  still  and 
pure  by  nature  that  the  mere  physical  incidents  of 
any  action  or  exertion  put  her  to  the  blush.’ 

I.  iii.  212-217.  ‘Anyone  can  bear  well  the  sentence 
which  inflicts  a grievous  penalty  if  he  is  not  per- 
sonally concerned  in  anything  but  the  moral  consola- 
tions freely  bestowed  by  the  judge  on  such  occasions; 
but  the  poor  condemned  man  must  both  pay  the  pen- 
alty and  suffer  the  sorrow,  if  he  has  no  hope  of  re- 
dress beyond  mere  silent  endurance.  All  these  moral- 
izing adages  are  equivocal  and  worthless,  however, 
for  they  work  equally  well  both  ways — whether  for 
gratifying  or  embittering  one’s  feelings.’  Brabantio’s 
sententious  couplets  are  uttered  in  scornful  ridicule 
of  the  Duke’s  stilted  Senecan  platitudes. 

I.  iii.  251.  ‘My  storming,  forcing,  daring  of  For- 
tune’s apportionments.’  Perhaps  the  First  Quarto’s 
‘scorne  of  Fortunes’  is  the  better  reading. 

I.  iii.  258.  moth,  etc.  A concentrated  metaphor. 
It  suggests  the  futile  fluttering  of  a moth,  its  con- 
fined sphere  indoors,  and  its  triviality;  while  there 
is  also  implied  the  sharp  contrast  between  the  dis- 


136 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


carded,  idle  garments  which  are  the  moth’s  prey,  and 
the  apparel  in  active  (military)  use  far  removed  from 
the  moth’s  depredations. 

I.  iii.  265,  266.  ‘Not  to  gratify  mere  lust  and  my 
normal  marital  right, — for  the  wanton  passions  of 
youth  are  dead  in  me.’  Othello  is  simply  recipro- 
cating Desdemona’s  high-minded  utterance  above, 
lines  254-256. 

I.  iii.  271.  seel.  Literally,  a hawking  term,  mean- 
ing to  sew  the  lids  of  a falcon’s  eyes  together  in  order 
to  restrict  the  sight  while  the  bird  was  being  trained ; 
thence  used  metaphorically  in  a variety  of  senses, 
such  as  to  blind,  cover,  conceal,  restrain,  fetter,  etc. 

II.  i.  26.  Veronesa.  ‘Verennessa,’  Folio  1 ; ‘Vero- 
nesso,’  Folios  2,  3,  4;  ‘Veronessa,’  Quartos  1,  2;  and 
all  these  early  editions  have  a colon  after  ‘put  in,’ 
and  a comma  after  the  disputed  word, — which  would 
make  ‘Veronesa’  refer  to  Cassio  (whom  we  know  to 
be  a Florentine).  The  emended  punctuation  adopted 
in  the  text  makes  ‘Veronesa’  refer  to  the  ship  which 
has  just  arrived,  with  the  explanation  that  Verona, 
though  an  inland  town,  might  tit  out  a ship  as  part 
of  her  tribute  to  Venice;  and  Sir  Edward  Sullivan, 
in  The  Nineteenth  Century  for  August,  1908,  has 
added  probability  to  this  interpretation  by  showing 
that  Verona  was  considered  a maritime  town  in  the 
sixteenth  century  owing  to  the  navigability  of  the 
Adige. 

II.  i.  50,  51.  ‘Therefore,  while  not  foolishly  over- 
confident, I am  emboldened  to  hope  for  the  best.’  A 
condensed  figure  almost  incapable  of  precise  literal 
paraphrase. 

II.  i.  65.  A much  disputed,  much  emended  pas- 
sage. The  gloss  here  and  in  the  preceding  line  at- 
tempts only  a free  version  of  one  possible  interpreta- 
tion, based  on  the  supposition  that  Cassio  intended, 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


137 


not  a climactic  advance  in  idea  over  line  63,  but  an 
emphatic  re-statement  of  the  same  idea. 

II.  i.  112.  housewifery,  housewives.  Pronounced 
‘huzzifry,’  ‘huzzivs.’  The  modern  ‘hussy’  (merely  a 
phonetic  transcription  of  ‘housewife’)  shows  the  slur 
intended. 

II.  i.  155.  Probably  some  cant  saying  or  ‘double 
entendre/  now  lost,  gave  point  to  this  line  in  Shake- 
speare’s day.  No  entirely  satisfactory  interpretation 
has  been  brought  forward,  but  one  plausible  expla- 
nation is  this:  to  exchange  the  seemingly  best  part  of 
a worthless  thing  for  the  seemingly  worst  part  of  a 
really  good  thing. 

II.  i.  315.  ‘If  this  poor  wretch,  whom  I stoop  to 
follow  up  for  the  sake  of  utilizing  his  eagerness  in 
this  hunt,  has  manhood  enough  to  carry  out  my  in- 
structions about  entrapping  Cassio,  why  then  I’ll 
have  Cassio  on  the  hip.’  It  should  be  stated  that  this 
interpretation  rejects  Steevens’  emendation,  almost 
universally  adopted  by  modern  editors,  of  ‘trash’ 
(hunting  term,  meaning  to  check  a too  forward  dog 
by  fastening  a weight  about  its  neck)  for  ‘trace.’  The 
interpretation  of  Steevens’  reading  is  this:  ‘If  this 
worthless  wretch  of  Venice,  whom  I have  to  restrain 
because  of  his  too  great  eagerness  in  pursuing  Des- 
demona.’  But  no  one  unfamiliar  with  the  rest  of  the 
play  could  possibly  extract  this  meaning  from  the 
words  ‘trash  for  his  quick  hunting,’  for  up  to  this 
point  Iago  has  welcomed  (not  ‘checked’)  Roderigo’s 
eagerness  and  in  fact  has  found  it  insufficient  (cf. 
I.  iii.  340-392,  and  II.  i.  217-220)  ; and  it  is  not  until 
two  scenes  later,  at  the  very  end  of  this  act  (II.  iii. 
372-391),  that  there  is  the  least  indication  that  Iago 
is  embarrassed  by  Roderigo’s  over-eagerness. 

II.  iii.  There  was  no  new  scene  necessary  here,  on 
the  Elizabethan  stage,  and  none  is  indicated  in  the 
Folios  or  Quartos.  Theobald  first  assigned  a new 


138 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello . 


location  for  the  action  after  the  Herald’s  departure, 
and  Capell  first  added  the  caption  ‘Scene  iii.’ 

II.  iii.  59.  ‘That  keep  their  honor  constantly  in 
mind’  (and  are  quick  to  construe  anything  as  an  insult 
and  to  quarrel  on  slight  grounds). 

II.  iii.  72.  This  song  like  the  next  (line  93)  need 
not  necessarily  be  credited  to  Iago’s  invention,  or  to 
Shakespeare’s.  The  first  was  quite  possibly  an  Eliza- 
bethan tavern  catch,  and  the  second  was  certainly  an 
old  English  ballad. 

II.  iii.  136.  ‘He’ll  see  the  hour-hand  of  the  clock 
make  two  complete  revolutions’ ; i.e.,  stay  awake  for 
twenty-four  hours  at  a stretch,  get  no  sleep  all  night 
long. 

II.  iii.  153.  Either  ‘slash  him  till  he  resembles  a 
Chianti  bottle  covered  with  straw  net-work’  (Booth), 
or  ‘beat  him  till  he  runs  to  hide  himself  in  one  of  the 
wicker  flasks  we’ve  just  been  using’  (Hart).  Cf.  also 
Much  Ado  About  Nothing  I.  i.  267:  ‘Hang  me  in  a 
bottle  like  a cat  And  shoot  at  me,’  and  the  note 
thereon. 

II.  iii.  163.  Diablo.  Oath  or  exclamation  of  ex- 
citement: ‘the  Devil!’  A typical  Elizabethan  affecta- 
tion of  elegance  was  this  garnishing  of  the  speech 
with  scraps  of  Spanish. 

II.  iii.  218.  on  . . . safety.  ‘Guard-post  estab- 
lished to  secure  the  general  safety.’  Hendiadys  for 
‘court  of  guard’  (cf.  II.  i.  221). 

II.  iii.  310.  Hydra.  A monster  with  several  heads, 
one  of  them  immortal ; but  whenever  one  of  the  others 
was  cut  off,  several  new  ones  replaced  it.  The  de- 
struction of  the  Lernsean  Hydra  was  the  second  of 
the  Twelve  Labors  of  Hercules. 

II.  iii.  372,  373.  ‘I  seem  to  be  hunting,  not  for  any 
spoils  that  I may  gain,  but  merely  for  sound  and 
effect.’  To  ‘fill  up  a cry’  was  to  contribute  a needed 
note  in  the  harmonious  barking  of  a pack  of  hounds — 


The  Moor  of  V enice 


139 


which  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  actual  killing  of  the 
quarry. 

III.  i.  2.  S.  d.  Clown.  The  Clown  here  must  have 
been  a licensed  jester,  like  Touchstone,  in  Othello’s 
train:  cf.  III.  iv.  1-23. 

III.  i.  3,  4.  The  Neapolitans  spoke  Italian  with  a 
marked  nasal  twang. 

III.  i.  43.  Iago  was  a Venetian,  Cassio  a Floren- 
tine; the  latter  merely  means  to  say,  ‘I  never  expe- 
rienced more  honesty  and  kindness  even  in  one  of 
my  own  countrymen  than  in  this  man.’  (Malone.) 

III.  i.  52.  Opportunity,  in  the  fable,  had  no  hair 
on  the  back  of  the  head  and  hence  must  be  grasped 
by  the  fore-lock.  (Cf.  I.  iii.  80,  and  gloss.) 

III.  iii.  14-16.  ‘He  may  either  of  himself  think 
it  politic  to  keep  me  out  of  office  so  long,  or  he  may 
be  satisfied  with  such  slight  reasons,  or  so  many  acci- 
dents may’  arise  to  postpone  from  time  to  time  his 
intended  re-instatement  of  me,  ‘that  I may  be  quite 
forgotten.’  (Johnson.) 

III.  iii.  23.  watch  him  tame.  A metaphor  drawn 
from  falconry:  hawks  were  tamed,  i.e.,  their  fierce 
spirit  of  resistance  was  broken,  by  deprivation  of 
sleep. 

III.  iii.  260-263.  An  elaborate  metaphor  drawn 
from  falconry.  A ‘haggard’  was  a wild  hawk  caught 
when  mature  and  often  found  to  be  irreclaimable, 
unamenable  to  discipline;  a word  with  such  a mean- 
ing readily  lent  itself  to  use  as  a term  of  reproach 
applied  to  a loose  woman.  ‘Jesses’  were  leather  leg- 
straps  by  which  the  hawk  was  fastened  to  the  leash. 
‘The  falconers  always  let  the  hawk  fly  [‘whistle  her 
off’  = start  her]  against  the  wind;  if  she  flies  with 
the  wind  behind  her,  she  seldom  returns.  If  there- 
fore a hawk  was  for  any  reason  to  be  dismissed,  she 
was  “let  down  the  wind,”  and  from  that  time  shifted 
for  herself  and  “preyed  at  fortune.”  ’ (Johnson.) 


140 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


III.  iii.  387.  Her.  This  reading,  ‘Her,’  is  based 
on  Quartos  2,  3,  and  has  been  uniformly  adopted  in 
standard  modern  editions;  but  the  reading  ‘My,’  of 
the  Folios  and  Quarto  1,  may  yet  come  to  be  consid- 
ered superior. 

III.  iii.  454-461.  Steevens  cites  Holland’s  trans- 
lation of  Pliny’s  Natural  History,  1601,  as  the  prob- 
able source  of  Shakespeare’s  assertion  about  the  cur- 
rent of  the  Pontic  or  Black  Sea  (the  ancient  Pontus 
Euxinus). 

III.  iv.  47,  48.  The  commentators  have  brought 
to  light  sufficient  early  plays  on  the  words  ‘hearts’ 
and  ‘hands’  (to  which  might  be  added  Herrick’s 
Panegerick  to  Sir  Lewis  Pemberton,  lines  35-43)  to 
show  that  this  was  a favorite  quibble.  The  full  mean- 
ing here  is  not  readily  grasped  (even  by  Desdemona: 
cf.  line  49),  but  one  reasonable  interpretation  of  the 
main  drift  is  the  following:  ‘The  joining  of  hands 
in  marriage  formerly  meant  the  giving  of  hearts  also, 
but  nowadays  we  have  a formal  outward  union  of 
hands  without  any  accompanying  inward  union  of 
hearts’;  i.e.,  he  accuses  Desdemona  of  secretly  loving 
Cassio  instead  of  her  husband. 

III.  iv.  172.  keep  a week  away.  This  passage, 
Lodovico’s  arrival  with  the  message  from  the  Senators 
presupposing  their  receipt  of  a report  from  Othello 
about  the  Turks’  discomfiture  (IV.  i.  229  ff.),  Rode- 
rigo’s  ‘Every  day  thou  daffest  me’  (IV.  ii.  176),  and 
various  other  points  in  the  play  would  seem  to  imply 
that  many  days  must  have  elapsed  since  Othello’s 
arrival  in  Cyprus;  yet  an  unbroken  sequence  of  time- 
indications  can  be  cited  to  show  that  he  landed  Sat- 
urday afternoon  and  killed  Desdemona  Sunday  night. 
In  this  dilemma  (which  arises,  of  course,  only  in  close 
study  of  the  play,  never  in  witnessing  a performance) 
Professor  John  Wilson,  in  1850,  proposed  the  theory 
that  Shakespeare  consciously  or  unconsciously  em- 
ployed ‘Double  Time,’  i.e..  Dramatic  or  Short  Time 


The  Moor  of  V enice 


141 


and  Historic  or  Long  Time:  ‘Short  for  maintaining 
the  tension  of  the  passion.  Long  for  a thousand  gen- 
eral needs ; . . . one  for  our  sympathy  with  Othello’s 
tempest  of  heart,  one  for  the  verisimilitude  of  the 
transaction.’  The  question  is  ably  handled  in  several 
works  listed  in  Appendix  D. 

IV.  i.  6.  ‘It  is  dissimulation  towards  the  devil  to 
act  wickedly  in  outward  appearances  and  yet  “mean 
virtuously.”  ’ (Hart.) 

IV.  i.  17.  ‘People  often  have  honor  (receive  out- 
ward respect)  who  have  no  honor  (possess  no  inward 
virtue)’;  or,  more  simply:  ‘Often  some  people  seem 
to  be  honorable  who  really  are  not  so.’ 

IV.  i.  35-44.  These  are  the  disjointed  ejaculations 
of  an  agonized  mind  on  the  verge  of  collapse.  There 
are  few  phrases  in  it  where  the  reference  is  not  fairly 
clear. 

IV.  i.  89,  90.  all  . . . man.  ‘Altogether  given 
over  to  mere  passionate  impulse,  and  not  a real  man.’ 

IV.  i.  110.  This  line  and  all  Othello’s  speeches 
down  to  line  176  are  supposed  to  be  spoken  in  his 
hiding-place,  where  he  is  both  visible  and  audible  to 
the  audience  but  neither  visible  nor  audible  to  Cassio 
and  Iago. 

IV.  i.  282,  283.  ‘I  devoutly  wish  that  he  were  his 
true  self — if  indeed  (but  far  be  it  from  me  to  assert 
that  such  is  the  case)  he  really  is  anything  less  than 
what  we  had  hoped  he  might  be.’  A purposely  in- 
volved and  guarded  utterance:  lines  288,  289  give 
Iago’s  professed  motive  for  his  reticence;  and  cf.  his 
similar  tactics  in  III.  iii.  133-154. 

IV.  ii.  53,  54.  A much-discussed  crux,  capable 
only  of  some  such  tentative  explanation  as  the  fol- 
lowing: ‘The  pilloried  target  for  all  scornful  Time  to 
pass  slowly  by  and  point  his  seemingly  unmoving 
finger  at.’  Othello  shudders  at  his  prospective  un- 
enviable immortality  as  a proverbial  bv-word  or 


142 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


synonym  for  a deceived  husband.  The  Folios  read 
‘slow,  and  moving,’  defensible  as  hendiadys  for 
‘slowly  moving’ : but  this  reduces  the  vividly  imagina- 
tive paradox  of  the  Quarto  reading  to  tame  matter- 
of-fact  prose. 

IV.  ii.  62.  cherubin.  A plural  form  used  with  a 
singular  signification,  by  a common  mistake.  That 
the  cherub  was  traditionally  painted  with  a scarlet 
countenance  is  vouched  for  by  Chaucer’s  phrase,  ‘a 
fyr-reed  cherubinnes  face’  ( Prologue , 624). 

IV.  ii.  66.  quicken  . . . blowing.  The  reference 
is  to  the  blow-fly,  which  lays  its  eggs  on  meat — cf. 
shambles — and  ‘again  becomes  pregnant  [quicken] 
the  very  instant  it  has  laid  a batch  of  eggs  [blow- 
ing].’ (Deighton.) 

IV.  ii.  229.  Mauritania.  It  is  on  such  expressions 
as  this  and  Iago’s  ‘Barbary’  (I.  i.  112)  that  those 
rely  who  wish  to  prove  that  Shakespeare  thought  of 
Othello  as  a bronze-colored  Moor,  while  those  who 
maintain  that  he  conceived  of  him  as  a jet-black  full- 
blooded  negro  cite  I.  i.  66,  I.  ii.  70,  III.  iii.  388,  389, 
etc.  The  modern  stage  practice,  of  presenting 
Othello  as  light  brown  or  bronzed,  dates  only  from 
Edmund  Kean’s  innovation;  see  Appendix  B.  This 
problem  is  fully  discussed  in  some  of  the  works  listed 
in  Appendix  D. 

IV.  iii.  41.  The  poor  soul,  etc.  This  is  an  old 
ballad,  preserved  in  various  versions  with  various 
musical  settings.  Shakespeare  has  altered  it,  appar- 
ently, for  in  the  version  in  Percy’s  Reliques  the  for- 
saken lover  is  a man. 

IV.  iii.  108.  ‘Not  to  make  ill-treatment  an  excuse 
for  bad  conduct,  but  to  improve  under  adversity.’ 

V.  ii.  S.  d.  Enter  . . . bed.  Another  interesting 
stage  direction,  taken  from  the  Quartos.  On  the 
Elizabethan  stage  Othello  would  enter  and,  drawing 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


143 


the  curtain  before  the  innermost  rear  stage,  under 
the  balcony,  reveal  Desdemona  in  bed  asleep. 

V.  ii.  12.  Promethean  heat.  Prometheus,  in  classi- 
cal mythology,  stole  from  heaven  the  sacred  element 
of  fire,  originally  unobtainable  on  the  earth.  Othello 
means  here  that  the  spark  of  life,  once  extinguished, 
cannot  be  rekindled  without  some  superhuman  agency. 

V.  ii.  82.  Being  . . . pause.  A disputed  line. 
‘While  it  is  being  done,  there  must  be  no  pause’  (re- 
ferring to  lines  85-88,  below)  ; or,  ‘The  agony  of  un- 
certainty being  over  now  and  my  decision  made,  the 
mere  carrying  out  of  my  determination  gives  me  no 
pause’  (referring  to  III.  iii.  190-192). 

V.  ii.  92.  The  . . . high.  Probably  referring  to 
the  outcry  resulting  from  the  attack  on  Cassio; 
Othello  is  accounting  to  himself  for  Emilia’s  disturb- 
ing presence  outside. 

V.  ii.  100.  yawn  at  alteration.  ‘Crack  open  at 
this  monstrous  change.’  Earthquakes  were  believed 
to  accompany  or  follow  eclipses.  These  lines,  96- 
100,  recall  Othello’s  earlier  saying.  III.  iii.  91,  92. 

V.  ii.  215.  This  statement  is  inconsistent  with 
III.  iv.  56,  57,  though  perhaps  reconcilable  by 
casuistry. 

V.  ii.  252.  the  ice  brook’s  temper.  The  gloss  gives 
the  usual  interpretation;  but  ‘temper’  here  may  also 
mean  ‘temperature’  (cf.  N.  E.  D.,  s.  v.,  7).  The 
sense  of  the  phrase  then  would  be  ‘cold  and  ruthless 
as  ice.’ 

V.  ii.  346.  Indian.  This  is  the  reading  of  Folios 
2,  3,  4,  and  all  the  Quartos,  as  well  as  of  practically 
all  modern  editions.  The  First  Folio  alone  gives 
‘Iudean’  (i.e.,  Judean),  which  has  been  defended  by 
few  modern  critics. 


APPENDIX  A 


Sources  of  the  Play 

Furness  cites  two  actual  historical  personages  who 
have  been  named  as  possible  models  for  Shakespeare’s 
Othello.  (1)  Christopher  Moro  [the  latter  word 
signifying  in  Italian  either  mulberry  or  blackamoor], 
a heroic  Venetian  general,  returned  to  Venice  in  1508 
from  the  lord-lieutenancy  of  Cyprus,  after  the  failure 
of  ‘an  hypothetical’  or  threatened  Turkish  attack 
on  the  island,  in  mourning  for  his  recently  deceased 
wife.  (2)  San  Pietro  di  Bastelica,  an  Italian  adven- 
turer of  great  distinction  in  the  service  of  France,  in 
1563  returned  abruptly  from  a mission  to  Constan- 
tinople (to  beg  assistance  for  the  Corsicans  from  the 
Turks)  because  of  artfully  circulated  reports  of  his 
innocent  wife’s  infidelity;  thereupon,  after  a scene 
of  mingled  tenderness  and  ferocity  on  his  part  and 
gentle  submission  on  hers,  he  asked  pardon  upon  his 
knees  for  the  deed  he  was  about  to  commit  and 
then  deliberately  strangled  her  with  her  handkerchief. 
The  stories  of  both  these  personages  may  well  have 
been  retailed  in  England  within  Shakespeare’s  hear- 
ing and  so  may  have  influenced  him;  but  the  chief 
accepted  source  for  the  play  remains  a prose  tale  by 
Cinthio. 

Giovanbattista  Giraldi,  called  Cinthio,  was  a 
sixteenth-century  novelist,  poet,  dramatist,  and 
university  professor  of  Ferrara  who  compiled,  and 
published  at  Monteregale,  Sicily,  in  1565,  an  edify- 
ing ‘philosophical’  work  wherein  ten  moral  virtues 
or  their  opposites  are  illustrated  by  ten  appropriate 
tales  apiece, — thence  entitled  Hecatommithi  ( The 
Hundred  Fables).  The  seventh  novel  of  the  third 
decade  is  the  source  of  Othello;  but  Shakespeare, 


The  Moor  of  V enice 


145 


unless  we  credit  him  with  a knowledge  of  Italian  or 
French  (a  French  translation  appeared  in  1583)  or 
Spanish  (a  Spanish  translation  appeared  in  1590), 
seemingly  gained  his  acquaintance  with  the  Hecatom- 
mithi  at  second  hand,  for  no  English  translation  of 
the  work  in  the  sixteenth  or  seventeenth  centuries  is 
known  to  us. 

Cinthio  gives  a name  to  none  of  his  prototypes  of 
Shakespeare’s  characters  except  the  heroine,  who  is 
called  ‘Disdemona’;  Othello  is  simply  ‘the  Moor,’ 
Iago  ‘the  Ensign,’  Cassio  ‘the  Captain  of  the  troop’ 
or  ‘the  Captain,’  Emilia  ‘the  Ensign’s  wife,’  and 
Bianca  ‘a  courtesan,’  while  Brabantio,  Lodovico, 
Gratiano,  Montano,  Roderigo,  the  Duke,  and  the 
Clown  do  not  appear,  and  on  the  other  hand  ‘the 
Captain  of  the  troop’  is  provided  with  an  unnamed 
wife.  Cinthio’s  narrative  may  be  summarized  thus, 
for  the  sake  of  the  instructive  lesson  it  affords  in 
Shakespeare’s  method  of  plot-construction: — 

Despite  parental  opposition,  Disdemona  loved  and 
married  a valiant  Moor  who  had  rendered  distin- 
guished military  service  to  the  Venetian  state,  and 
the  two  lived  happily  together  in  Venice  for  some 
time,  till  the  Senate  appointed  the  Moor  to  the  com- 
mand of  the  troops  being  sent  out  as  a new  garrison 
for  Cyprus.  Rather  than  be  separated  from  her 
husband,  Disdemona  insisted  upon  sharing  the  perils 
of  the  voyage.  They  accordingly  set  sail  and  in  due 
time  ‘with  a perfectly  tranquil  sea  arrived  safely  at 
Cyprus.’1  Now  a wicked  Ensign  among  the  soldiery, 
of  whose  wife  Disdemona  became  very  fond,  fell  pas- 
sionately in  love  with  the  Moor’s  wife  and  ‘bent  all  his 
thoughts  to  achieve  his  conquest ; . . . but  she,  whose 
every  wish  was  centred  in  the  Moor,  had  no  thought 
for  this  Ensign  more  than  for  any  other  man.’  The 

i The  quotations  are  taken  from  Taylor’s  translation, 
1855,  as  reprinted  by  Furness. 


14-6 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello_ 


Ensign,  ascribing  his  failure  to  a certain  Captain  of 
a troop  to  whom  Disdemona  had  always  shown  great 
kindness,  because  of  the  Moor’s  affection  for  him, 
determined  to  revenge  himself  by  bringing  about  the 
death  of  the  Captain  and  destroying  the  Moor’s  love 
for  the  lady.  ‘Not  long  afterwards  it  happened  that 
the  Captain,  having  drawn  his  sword  upon  a soldier 
of  the  guard,  and  struck  him,’  was  punished  by  being 
deprived  of  his  rank;  Disdemona’s  impulsive  inter- 
cession thereupon,  out  of  mere  friendliness  and  con- 
cern lest  her  husband  should  ‘lose  so  dear  a friend,’ 
gave  the  wicked  Ensign  a hint  upon  which  he 
promptly  acted  by  dexterously  insinuating  to  the 
Moor,  ‘after  feigning  at  first  great  reluctance  to  say 
aught  that  might  displease,’  that  the  lady  sought  the 
Captain’s  restoration  to  favor  for  her  own  sake,  ‘and 
all  the  more  since  she  has  taken  an  aversion  to  your 
blackness.’  The  enraged  husband’s  demand  for  posi- 
tive proof  was  temporarily  satisfied  by  lies  and 
promises,  and  afterwards  ‘the  villain  resolved  on  a 
new  deed  of  guilt. 

‘Disdemona  often  used  to  go  to  visit  the  Ensign’s 
wife,  and  remained  with  her  a good  part  of  the  day. 
Now  the  Ensign  observed  that  she  carried  about 
with  her  a handkerchief,  which  he  knew  the  Moor 
had  given  her,  finely  embroidered  in  the  Moorish 
fashion.  Then  he  conceived  the  plan  of  taking  this 
kerchief  from  her  secretly,  and  thus  laying  the  snare 
for  her  final  ruin.  The  Ensign  had  a little  daughter, 
a child  three  years  of  age,  who  was  much  loved  by 
Disdemona,  and  one  day,  when  the  unhappy  lady 
had  gone  to  pay  a visit  at  the  house  of  this  vile  man, 
he  took  the  little  child  up  in  his  arms  and  carried 
her  to  Disdemona,  who  took  her  and  pressed  her  to 
her  bosom;  whilst  at  the  same  instant  this  traitor, 
who  had  extreme  dexterity  of  hand,  drew  the  kerchief 
from  her  sash  so  cunningly  that  she  did  not  notice 
him.’ 


The  Moor  of  V enice 


147 


After  this  ‘it  seemed  as  if  fate  conspired  with  the 
Ensign  to  work  the  death  of  the  unhappy  Disdemona.’ 
The  handkerchief  was  dropped  in  the  Captain’s 
apartment  and  found  by  him;  the  Moor  was  made 
to  witness  a conversation  in  which  the  Ensign’s 
pantomime  seemed  to  indicate  that  the  Captain  was 
confessing  everything;  Disdemona  naturally  failed 
to  produce  the  handkerchief  when  it  was  called  for; 
and  the  Moor,  wholly  convinced  now,  ‘fell  to  medi- 
tating how  he  should  put  his  wife  to  death,  and  like- 
wise the  Captain,  so  that  their  death  should  not  be 
laid  to  his  charge.’  ‘The  Ensign’s  wife,  who  knew 
the  whole  truth,  but  dared  not,  from  fear  of  her 
husband,  disclose  a single  circumstance,’  tried  to 
warn  Disdemona  indirectly,  but  the  Ensign  pointed 
out  to  the  Moor  the  Captain’s  wife  ‘standing  at  a 
window,  where  she  could  be  seen  by  all  the  passers-by 
in  the  street,’  with  the  handkerchief  in  her  posses- 
sion, and  the  doom  of  the  two  innocent  victims  was 
sealed.  ‘After  much  entreating  and  being  richly 
paid,’  the  Ensign  finally  overcame  his  fears  and  one 
dark  night  assaulted  the  Captain,  who  was  ‘on  his 
way  to  visit  a courtesan,’  and  with  one  blow  cut  off 
his  right  leg  at  the  thigh;  only  the  wounded  man’s 
vigorous  sword-play  and  the  speedy  response  to  his 
cries  for  assistance  saved  his  life. 

Then  the  Ensign  and  the  Moor  ‘consulted  of  one 
means  and  another — poison  and  daggers — to  kill  poor 
Disdemona,  but  could  resolve  on  nothing.  At  length 
the  Ensign  said,  “A  plan  comes  to  my  mind,  which 
will  give  you  satisfaction  and  raise  cause  for  no  sus- 
picion. It  is  this:  the  house  in  which  you  live  is  very 
old,  and  the  ceiling  of  your  chamber  has  many  cracks ; 
I propose  we  take  a stocking  filled  with  sand,  and 
beat  Disdemona  with  it  till  she  dies ; thus  will  her 
body  bear  no  signs  of  violence.  When  she  is  dead  we 
can  pull  down  a portion  of  the  ceiling,  and  thus  make 
it  seem  as  if  a rafter  falling  on  her  head  had  killed 


148 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


the  lady.  Suspicion  cannot  rest  on  you,  since  all  men 
will  impute  her  death  to  accident.”  This  cruel  counsel 
pleased  the  Moor,  and  he  only  waited  for  a fitting 
time  to  execute  the  plot.  One  night,  when  he  and 
Disdemona  had  retired  to  bed,  the  Ensign,  whom  the 
Moor  had  concealed  in  a closet  which  opened  into  the 
chamber,  raised  a noise  in  the  closet,  according  to  a 
concerted  plan;  whereat  the  Moor  said  to  his  wife, 
“Did  you  not  hear  that  noise?” 

‘ “Indeed  I heard  it,”  she  replied. 

‘ “Rise,”  said  the  Moor,  “and  see  what  ’tis.” 

‘The  unhappy  Disdemona  rose  from  bed,  and  the 
instant  she  approached  the  closet,  out  rushed  the 
Ensign,  and  being  strong  and  of  stout  nerve,  he  beat 
her  cruelly  with  the  bag  of  sand  across  her  back ; 
upon  which  Disdemona  fell  to  the  ground,  scarce  able 
to  draw  her  breath;  but  with  the  little  voice  she  had 
left,  she  called  upon  the  Moor  for  aid.  But  the  Moor, 
leaping  from  bed,  exclaimed,  “Thou  wickedest  of 
women,  thus  has  thy  falseness  found  its  just  re- 
ward.” . . . The  wretched  lady,  hearing  these  words, 
and  feeling  that  she  was  near  her  end  (for  the 
Ensign  had  given  her  another  blow),  appealed  to  the 
justice  of  Heaven,  since  justice  here  had  failed  her, 
in  proof  of  her  fidelity  and  truth ; and  as  she  was  thus 
calling  Heaven  to  witness,  the  wicked  Ensign  in- 
flicted a third  blow,  under  which  she  sank  lifeless  on 
the  floor.  Then  the  Ensign  and  the  Moor,  laying 
Disdemona  on  the  bed  and  wounding  her  head,  pulled 
down  part  of  the  ceiling  of  the  chamber  as  they  had 
arranged;  whereupon  the  Moor  began  to  call  aloud 
for  help,  exclaiming  that  the  house  was  falling. 
Hearing  this  uproar,  the  neighbors  all  came  running 
up,  and  there  found  Disdemona  lying  dead  beneath 
a rafter, — a sight  which,  from  the  good  life  of  that 
poor  lady,  did  fill  all  hearts  with  sorrow.’ 

The  two  murderers  escaped  detection  for  the  time 
being,  but  remorse  finally  caused  the  Moor  so  to  hate 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


149 


his  accomplice  that,  kept  from  slaying  him  by  fear  of 
consequences,  he  deprived  him  of  his  rank  and  dis- 
missed him.  In  revenge  the  Ensign  told  the  Captain, 
now  going  about  on  a wooden  leg,  that  it  was  the 
Moor  who  had  cut  off  his  leg  and  killed  Disdemona; 
they  both  repeated  these  charges  before  the  Senate; 
and  the  Moor  was  thereupon  brought  pinioned  to 
Venice,  tortured,  imprisoned,  and  ‘condemned  to  per- 
petual banishment,  in  which  he  was  eventually  slain 
by  the  kinsfolk  of  Disdemona,  as  he  merited.  The 
Ensign  returned  to  his  own  country,  and  following 
up  his  wonted  villainy,’  lodged  a false  accusation 
against  a companion,  for  which  he  was  tortured  so 
violently  to  make  him  prove  his  charges  that  ‘his  body 
ruptured’  and  ‘he  died  a miserable  death.  Thus  did 
Heaven  avenge  the  innocence  of  Disdemona.’ 


APPENDIX  B 


The  History  of  the  Play 

On  the  strength  of  Malone’s  assertion,  backed  by 
a now  generally  credited  reference  in  the  Revels 
Books,  the  composition  of  Othello  is  assigned  to  the 
year  1604;  but  no  printed  version  is  known  to  have 
appeared  for  eighteen  years  after  that  time,  until 
the  First  Quarto  was  published  by  Thomas  Walklev, 
in  1622,  having  been  licensed  October  6,  1621.  This 
is  the  latest  in  date  of  all  Shakespearean  quarto  first 
editions  of  single  plays  before  the  appearance  of  the 
famous  collected  edition  of  the  plays  by  Heminge 
and  Condell,  known  as  the  First  Folio,  in  1623;  and 
indeed  Walkley’s  advance  knowledge  of  the  forth- 
coming folio  publication  probably  accounts  for  this 
quarto  issue  as  an  attempt  to  make  something  out  of 
his  single  holding  while  there  was  yet  time.  The 
texts  of  the  First  Quarto  and  the  First  Folio  are 
presumably  based  on  two  different  playhouse  copies ; 
but,  though  the  former  is  probably  the  earlier  (for  it 
contains  in  full  the  oaths  forbidden  by  the  Act 
against  Swearing  on  the  Stage,  1605,  and  duly 
expurgated  in  the  Folio;  cf.  note  on  I.  i.  4),  the  latter 
is  unquestionably  the  better  and  more  authoritative 
text.  The  Folio  contains  about  160  lines  lacking  in 
the  Quarto,  many  of  them  absolutely  essential,  while 
the  Quarto  contains  only  about  a dozen  peculiar  to 
itself,  few  of  them  important.  The  Folio  includes 
all  the  modern  divisions  into  acts  and  scenes  but  one 
(cf.  note  on  II.  iii.),  while  the  Quarto  records  only 
three  such  divisions.  The  Folio  gives  the  list  of 
Dramatis  Personas,  as  reproduced  in  the  present 
edition,  while  the  Quarto  does  not.  And  in  the  great 
majority  of  cases  where  the  two  versions  differ 


The  Jloor  of  Venice 


151 


verbally,  the  Folio  gives  the  better  reading  (cf. 
Evans’  introduction  to  Praetorius’  facsimile  reprint 
of  the  First  Quarto).  The  later  Quartos  (1630,  1655, 
1681,  1687,  1695)  and  Folios  (1632,  1663-4,  1685-6) 
possess  little  or  no  independent  authority. 

The  disputed  reference  in  the  Revels  Books  gives 
the  earliest  accepted  date  for  a performance  of 
Othello,  viz.,  November  1,  1604,  ‘in  the  Banketinge 
house  at  Whithall.’  Richard  Burbage,  the  leading 
tragedian  of  Shakespeare’s  company,  ■won  great  fame 
in  the  role  of  Othello,  as  attested  by  tributes  in  verse 
upon  his  death,  in  1619.  The  title-page  of  the  First 
Quarto  assures  us  that  the  play  had  ‘been  diverse 
times  acted  at  the  Globe,  and  at  the  Black  Friers,  by 
his  Maiesties  Servants,’  but  the  Shakspere  Allusion 
Book  records  only  two  performances  between  1604 
and  1622:  one  before  the  German  Ambassador,  at  the 
Globe,  April  30,  1610,  and  the  other  before  ‘the 
Princes  Hignes  the  Lady  Elizabeth  and  the  Prince 
Pallatyne  Elector,’  presumably  at  Whitehall,  in  1613. 
Three  other  performances  can  be  definitely  dated 
before  the  closing  of  the  theatres,  in  1642;  viz.,  No- 
vember 22,  1629;  May  6,  1635,  ‘att  the  bla:  ffryers’; 
and  December  8,  1636,  before  the  King  and  Queen  at 
Hampton  Court;  but  other  references  show  that  the 
play’s  popularity  was  far  greater  than  these  meagre 
accounts  would  indicate.  In  the  Allusion  Book’s 
‘List  of  Shakspere’s  Works,  arranged  according  to 
the  number  of  allusions  to  each’  during  the  period 
from  1591  to  1700,  Hamlet  leads  with  95  references, 
and  Othello  stands  fifth  with  56. 

The  modern  era  on  the  English  stage  begins  with 
the  reopening  of  the  theatres  at  the  Restoration,  when 
actresses  and  painted  scenery  were  first  introduced 
as  regular  features  of  public  performances.  Here 
Othello  figures  conspicuously,  for  on  the  eighth  of 
December,  1660,  at  the  Red  Bull,  the  first  woman  to 
appear  on  the  public  stage  in  England  played  the 


152 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


part  of  Desdemona.  The  experiment  was  under- 
taken with  some  misgivings,  as  Jordan’s  defensive 
prologue  shows: 

In  this  reforming  age 
We  have  intents  to  civilize  the  Stage. 

Our  ‘women’  are  defective,  and  so  siz’d 

You’d  think  they  were  some  of  the  Guard  disguiz’d; 

For  (to  speak  truth)  men  act,  that  are  between 
Forty  and  fifty,  Wenches  of  fifteen; 

With  bone  so  large,  and  nerve  so  incomplyant. 

When  you  call  Desdemona,  enter  Giant. 

As  might  be  expected,  Pepys  has  some  interesting 
remarks  on  Restoration  performances  of  Othello: 
‘1660,  October  11. — To  the  Cockpitt  to  see  “The 
Moore  of  Venice,”  which  was  well  done.  Burt  acted 
the  Moore ; by  the  same  token,  a very  pretty  lady  that 
sat  by  me,  called  out,  to  see  Desdemona  smothered.’ 
‘1669,  February  6. — To  the  King’s  playhouse,  and 
there  in  an  upper  box  . . . did  see  “The  Moor  of 
Venice”:  but  ill  acted  in  most  parts;  Mohun,  which 
did  a little  surprize  me,  not  acting  Iago’s  part  by 
much  so  well  as  Clun  used  to  do : nor  another.  Hart’s1 
which  was  Cassio’s;  nor  indeed,  Burt  doing  the 
Moor’s  so  well  as  I once  thought  he  did.’  These 
actors  belonged  to  Sir  William  Davenant’s2  Drury 
Lane  company;  in  one  cast  in  1663,  with  the  above 
named,  Cartwright,  a great  Falstaff,  played  Brabantio 
and  Mrs.  Hughes  Desdemona. 

Othello  remained  a particular  favorite  throughout 
the  Restoration  and  Queen  Anne  periods,  largely 
owing  to  the  genius  of  the  great  Thomas  Betterton 
(1635 P-1710).  Steele’s  tribute  in  the  Tatler  to 
Betterton’s  ‘wonderful  agony’  in  the  last  three  acts, 
is  familiar,  and  Colley  Cibber’s  summary  often 
quoted:  ‘Betterton  was  an  actor  as  Shakespeare  was 
an  author,  both  without  competitors,  formed  for  the 

1 Shakespeare’s  grandnephew. 

2 Shakespear e’s  godson  (?). 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


153 


mutual  assistance  and  illustration  of  each  other’s 
genius’  (Genest  I,  492).  Genest’s  record  shows  that 
Othello  was  produced  practically  every  season  during 
the  period  covered,  1660-1830,  and,  what  is  more 
significant  still,  produced  in  its  original  form,  when 
almost  every  other  Shakespearean  or  Elizabethan 
play  was  presented  only  in  some  mutilated  ‘adapta- 
tion’ or  ‘revision.’ 

Betterton’s  mantle  descended  upon  Barton  Booth 
(1681-1733),  whose  Othello  was  considered  by  Colley 
Cibber  his  best  role.  Like  Betterton,  he  probably 
played  the  part  in  the  court-dress  of  the  period.  His 
successor,  Quin,  who  dominated,  the  stage  till  Gar- 
rick’s triumphal  entry  in  1741,  appeared  in  an 
English  military  uniform,  a large  powdered  wig,  and 
white  gloves ; when  the  latter  were  removed,  the 
sudden  disclosure  of  his  blackened  hands  made 
emphatic  Othello’s  alien  race.  David  Garrick  (1717- 
1779)  made  one  of  his  few  failures  when  he  attempted 
the  role  of  Othello,  in  spite  of  his  great  success  as 
Hamlet,  Macbeth,  and  Lear,  and  wisely  avoided  the 
part.  Barry’s  splendid  impersonation  of  the  Moor, 
and  Macklin’s  and  Henderson’s  of  Iago,  save  the 
credit  of  the  performances  of  this  period.  Even 
Kemble  failed  to  costume  Othello  properly,  while  his 
wonderful  sister,  Mrs.  Siddons,  was  a far  better  Lady 
Macbeth  than  Desdemona.  Edmund  Kean  won  from 
all  critics  the  most  complete  and  superlative  approval 
ever  accorded  any  interpreter  of  Othello’s  part;  the 
descriptions  of  his  performance  make  one  wonder 
at  the  change  that  has  come  over  actors  (or 
audiences  ?)  in  our  own  time.  As  is  well  known,  Kean 
fell  stricken  upon  the  shoulder  of  his  son  Charles 
(playing  Iago)  during  what  was  to  have  been  his 
farewell  appearance  at  Covent  Garden,  March  25, 
1833,  and  died  a few  weeks  later.  He  was  the  first 
to  present  Othello  as  a light  brown  or  bronzed  Moor 
instead  of  as.  a jet-black  negro;  and  he  was  also  a 


154 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


very  fine  Iago.  Junius  Brutus  Booth  played  Iago 
to  Kean’s  Othello  in  a notable  competitive  perform- 
ance at  Drury  Lane,  February  20,  1817,  and  later, 
chiefly  in  America,  created  an  interesting  if  not 
wholly  convincing  interpretation  of  the  Moor  as  a 
case  of  Oriental  racial  characteristics  slowly  over- 
coming an  artificial  Christian  civilization.  William 
C.  Macready  (1793-1873),  who  was  the  first  to 
costume  Othello  with  complete  correctness,  was 
really  greater  as  Iago.  Sir  Henry  Irving’s  first 
appearance  as  Othello,  February  14,  1876,  at  the 
London  ‘Lyceum,’  was  too  untrammeled  by  tradition 
to  be  appreciated;  but  on  May  2,  1881,  he  began  a 
brilliantly  successful  engagement  at  the  ‘Lyceum’ 
with  Edwin  Booth,  the  two  actors  alternating  the 
roles  of  Othello  and  Iago  at  successive  performances, 
to  the  Desdemona  of  Ellen  Terry,  the  Cassio  of 
William  Terriss,  and  the  Roderigo  of  Arthur  Wing 
Pinero.  Booth’s  Othello  far  surpassed  Irving’s,  but 
the  two  were  perhaps  evenly  matched  as  Iago.  The 
famous  Italian  actor,  Tommaso  Salvini,  was  also 
thrilling  audiences  in  Europe  and  America  in  the  ’70’s 
and  ’80’s  by  the  almost  animal  passionateness  of  his 
interpretation  of  Othello’s  jealousy.  Sir  Johnston 
Forbes-Robertson  essayed  Othello  in  1898,  and 
again,  with  Gertrude  Elliott  as  Desdemona,  in  May, 
1913;  but  his  Othello  is  vastly  inferior  to  his  Hamlet. 
Sir  Herbert  Beerbohm  Tree  produced  Othello  in 
London,  in  April,  1912,  witli  his  usual  scenic  elabora- 
tion, Laurence  Irving  playing  the  part  of  Iago  and 
Phyllis  Neilson-Terry  Desdemona. 

America  may  claim  at  least  two  very  great  per- 
formers of  the  two  roles  (for  most  great  Othellos 
have  also  been  great  Iagos),  in  Edwin  Forrest  (1806- 
1872)  and  Edwin  Booth  (1833-1893),  while  John 
Edward  McCullough  (1837-1885)  was  also  successful. 
Richard  Mansfield  steadily  declined  to  attempt  the 
part,  on  the  ground  that  he  could  add  nothing  to 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


155 


Salvini’s  performance.  E.  H.  Sothern  appeared 
early  in  his  career  as  Roderigo  in  one  of  McCul- 
lough’s last  performances,  but  since  then  has  confined 
himself  for  his  chief  undertakings  to  Shakespeare’s 
other  plays.  William  Faversham  gave  a deserving 
but  unsuccessful  performance,  in  1913.  Robert 
Bruce  Mantell  has  always  included  Othello  in  his 
Shakespearean  repertory,  and  with  some  success;  but 
his  performances  latterly  have  lacked  inspiration  and 
insight,  while  his  supporting  company  has  usually 
been  very  weak. 


APPENDIX  C 


The  Text  of  the  Present  Edition 

The  text  of  the  present  volume  is,  by  permission 
of  the  Oxford  University  Press,  that  of  the  Oxford 
Shakespeare,  edited  by  the  late  W.  J.  Craig,  except 
for  the  following  deviations: 

1.  The  stage  directions  of  the  early  editions  have 
been  restored  as  far  as  possible,  with  necessary 
modern  additions  in  square  brackets. 

2.  The  spelling  of  a few  words — such  as  vil- 
lainous, everywhere,  Pontic,  and  deserts — has  been 
normalized. 

3.  Since  the  Oxford  text  is  admittedly  eclectic, 
no  violation  of  principle  seemed  involved  in  making 
several  departures  from  it  in  punctuation  and  word- 
ing,— usually  in  the  direction  of  a return  to  the  First 
Folio.  In  the  following  list  of  verbal  departures,  the 
readings  adopted  in  the  present  text  precede  the 
colon,  while  Craig’s  readings  follow  it;  and  the  folio 
or  quarto  authority  is  given  wherever  involved: 

[Dramatis  Personae]  FI  (spelling  modernized):  Dramatis 
Personae  (wholly  modern) 

I.  i.  35  of  service  Ff,  Qq:  of  the  service 
39  Whether  Ff,  Qq:  Whe’r 
63  complement  Ff,  Qq:  compliment 
72  chances  Ff:  changes  Qq 

ii.  53  Iago.  Marry,  to — [Enter  Othello.]:  [Re- 

enter Othello.]  Iago.  Marry,  to — 

iii.  4 hundred  forty  Ff : hundred  and  forty  Qq  F4 

139  traveller’s  Ff:  travels’  Qq 

200  grise  Ff:  grize 

387  chang’d  Qq:  changed 

I’ll  go  seU  Q 2,  3:  I’ll  sell  Ff 

388  (Omitted.  Ff):  Go  to;  farewell!  put 

money  enough  in  your  purse.  Q1 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


157 


II.  i.  201 

315 
iii.  270 

III.  iii.  170 
180 
237 

316 

IV.  i.  3, 5 

137 
ii.  47 
54 

197 
iii.  107 

V.  ii.  350 


[Kissing  her ] the  greatest  discords  be:  the 
greatest  discords  be,  [Kissing  her. 
trace  Ff,  Qq:  trash 
sense  Ff:  offence  Qq 
strongly  Qq:  soundly  Ff 
resolv’d  Ff,  Qq:  resolved 
fall  Ff,  Qq:  fail  (misprint?) 

Why,  [Snatching  it] : you?  [Snatches  it.] 

what’s  that  Qq:  what  is  that  Ff 

in  bed  Ff:  a-bed 

comes  Ff,  Qq:  come  (misprint) 

they  Ff:  he  Qq 

unmoving  Qq:  and  moving  Ff,  (substan- 
tially) 

fopped  Ff,  Qq:  fobbed 
uses  Ff,  Qq  2,  3:  usage  Q1 
medicinable  Ff:  med’cinable 


APPENDIX  D 


Suggestions  for  Collateral  Reading 

Thomas  Rymer:  A Short  View  of  Tragedy  . . . 
with  some  Reflections  on  Shakespear.  London, 
1692-3.  (A  curiosity  of  literary  criticism.  Chapter 
vii,  covering  pages  86-146,  is  devoted  to  coarse  abuse 
of  Othello ; it  is  faithfully  reprinted  in  J.  E.  Spin- 
garn’s  Critical  Essays  of  the  Seventeenth  Century, 
II.  219-256.  Oxford,  1908.) 

Charles  Lamb:  On  the  Tragedies  of  Shakespeare, 
considered  with  reference  to  their  fitness  for  stage 
representation.  London,  1811. 

William  Hazlitt:  Characters  of  Shakespear’ s Plays. 
London,  1817. 

Mrs.  Anna  Jameson:  Characteristics  of  Women, 
Moral,  Poetical  and  Historical.  London,  1833. 

Samuel  Taylor  Coleridge:  Specimens  of  the  Table 
Talk.  London,  1835.  The  Literary  Remains  in 
Prose  and  Verse.  4 vols.  London,  1836-1839. 

Henry  Norman  Hudson:  Lectures  on  Shakespeare. 
New  York,  1848. 

Helena  Faucit,  Lady  Martin:  On  Some  of  Shake- 
speare’s Female  Characters.  London,  1885. 

William  Robertson  Turnbull:  Othello:  A Critical 
Study.  Edinburgh,  1892.  (The  merits  of  this  rather 
pretentiously  elaborate  work  are  almost  entirely  offset 
by  its  fulsome  absurdities.) 

Andrew  Cecil  Bradley:  Shakespearean  Tragedy. 
London,  1904.  (The  finest  contribution,  in  its  field, 
in  recent  years.) 

Walter  Raleigh:  Shakespeare.  (English  Men  of 
Letters  Series.)  London,  1907.  (Contains  an  un- 
usually satisfying  brief  analysis  of  the  tragic  appeal 
of  Othello .) 


The  Moor  of  V enice 


159 


Algernon  Charles  Swinburne:  Three  Plays  of 
Shakespeare.  New  York,  1909.  (The  extreme  of 
impressionistic  appreciation.  See  also  his  A Study 
of  Shakespeare,  London,  1879,  for  further  rhapsody.) 

E.  E.  Stoll:  Othello:  An  Historical  and  Compara- 
tive Study.  Minneapolis,  1915.  (The  extreme  of 
rationalistic  depreciation.) 

H.  H.  Furness:  A New  Variorum  Edition  of 
Shakespeare.  Vol.  VI:  Othello.  Philadelphia,  1886. 
(Indispensable.) 


INDEX  OF  WORDS  GLOSSED 


(Figures  in  full-faced  type  refer  to  page-numbers) 


abhor:  103  (IV.  ii.  162) 
abuse:  27  (I.  iii.  401) 
accountant:  39  (II.  i.  305) 
acknown  on’t:  70  (III.  iii. 
320) 

act:  3 (I.  i.  62) 
addiction:  40  (II.  ii.  6) 
addition:  89  (IV.  i.  105) 
advantage:  104  (IV.  ii.  179) 
affection:  110  (IV.  iii.  101) 
affin’d:  2 (I.  i.  39) 
affinity:  57  (III.  i.  49) 
after:  14  (I.  iii.  35) 
agnize:  21  (I.  iii.  232) 
aim:  13  (I.  iii.  6) 
alacrity:  22  (I.  iii.  233) 
alarum:  42  (II.  iii.  27) 
all  in  spleen,  etc.:  88  (IV. 
i.  89,  90) 

allowance,  your:  6 (I.  i. 

128) 

all’s  one:  107  (IV.  iii.  23) 
Almain:  44  (II.  iii.  87) 
an:  91  (IV.  i.  164) 
ancient:  2 (I.  i.  33) 
answerable  sequestration:  26 
(I.  iii.  351) 
antres:  18  (I.  iii.  140) 
approv’d  (tested) : 16  (I. 

iii.  77) 

approv’d  (convicted) : 49 

(II.  iii.  213) 

apt  . . . credit:  39  (II.  i. 
299) 

'arithmetician:  2 (I.  i.  19) 
as  . . . north:  125  (V.  ii. 

I 218> 

'aspics:  75  (III.  iii.  451) 


assay  of  reason:  13  (I.  iii. 
18) 

atone:  94  (IV.  i.  245) 

Barbary:  5 (I.  i.  112) 
bauble:  90  (IV.  i.  137) 
be  circumstanc’d : 84  (III. 
iv.  200) 

before  me!:  90  (IV.  i.  147) 
being  . . . pause:  119  (V. 

ii.  82) 

be-lee’d  and  calm’d:  2 (1.  i. 
30) 

bells:  33  (II.  i.  110) 
beshrew:  82  (III.  iv.  149) 
besort:  22  (I.  iii.  239) 
black:  33  (II.  i.  131) 
blank:  81  (III.  iv.  127) 
blazoning:  30  (II.  i.  63) 
bobb’d  from  him:  111  (V. 
i.  16) 

bold  cure:  30  (II.  i.  51) 
bolster:  73  (III.  iii.  400) 
bombast  circumstance:  1 (I. 
i.  13) 

bookish  theoric:  2 (I.  i.  24) 
bootless:  21  (I.  iii.  209) 
bosom:  57  (III.  i.  58) 
brace:  14  (I.  iii.  24) 
bulk:  110  (V.  i.  1) 
but:  63  (III.  iii.  139) 
but  (just) : 121  (V.  ii.  106) 
but  (merely):  81  (III.  iv. 
118) 

but  to:  107  (IV.  iii.  32) 
butt:  127  (V.  ii.  266) 
by:  117  (V.  ii.  30) 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


161 


caitiff:  89  (IV.  i.  109) 
callat:  101  (IV.  ii.  121) 
capable:  75  (III.  iii.  460) 
carrack:  10  (I.  ii.  50) 
carve  for:  47  (II.  iii.  175) 
cast:  7 (I.  i.  150) 
censure:  48  (II.  iii.  195); 

131  (V.  ii.  367) 
certes:  1 (I.  i.  16) 
chair:  114  (V.  i.  82) 
chamberers:  68  (III.  iii. 
265) 

change:  25  (I.  iii.  319) 
charm:  124  (V.  ii.  181) 
charmer:  79  (III.  iv.  58) 
charter:  22  (I.  iii.  247) 
check:  7 (I.i.  149) 
cherubin:  99  (IV.  ii.  62) 
chide  with:  103  (IV.  ii.  167) 
chronicle:  34  (II.  i.  160) 
chrysolite:  122  (V.  ii.  143) 
chuck:  78  (III.  iv.  50) 
circumstance:  72  (III.  iii. 
3551 

civil:  87  (IV.  i.  65) 
clip:  76  (III.  iii.  465) 
close  delations:  63  (III.  iii. 
123) 

closet  lock  and  key:  97  (IV. 
ii.  21) 

Clown:  55  (III.  i.  2) 
clyster-pipes:  35  (II.  i.  179) 
coat:  111  (V.  i.  25) 
cod’s  head,  etc.:  34  (II.  i. 
155) 

cogging,  cozening:  102  (IV. 
ii.  132) 

collied : 48  (II.  iii.  208) 
coloquintida : 26  (I.  iii.  356) 
comfort  forswear  me:  103 
(IV.  ii.  159) 

companions:  102  (IV.  ii. 
141) 

complement:  3 (I.  i.  63) 
composition:  13  (I.  iii.  1) 
compt:  127  (V.  ii.  272) 
conceit:  62  (III.  iii.  115) 


conceits  (vb.) : 64  (III.  iii. 
149) 

conception:  82  (III.  iv.  155) 
condition:  38  (II.  i.  257) 
conduct:  31  (II.  i.  75) 
confine:  9 (I.  ii.  27) 
conjunctive:  26  (I.  iii.  374) 
conscionable:  37  (II.  i.  244) 
consuls:  10  (I.  ii.  43) 
continuate:  83  (III.  iv.  177) 
contriv’d:  8 (I.  ii.  3) 
conveniency:  103  (IV.  ii. 
178) 

convinced:  86  (IV.  i.  28) 
cope:  88  (IV.  i.  87) 
corrigible  authority:  25  (I. 
iii.  330) 

counter-caster:  2 (I.  i.  31) 
country:  66  (III.  iii.  201) 
course  . . . compasses:  79 
(III.  iv.  72) 

course  . . . session:  12  (I.  ii. 

86) 

coursers:  5 (I.  i.  113) 
court:  37  (II.  i.  221) 
courtship:  35  (II.  i.  172) 
cries  on:  113  (V.  i.  48) 
cruzadoes:  77  (III.  iv.  27) 
cry  you  mercy:  100  (IV.  ii. 
87) 

cuckold  (vb.) : 27  (I.  iii. 
376) 

customer:  90  (IV.  i.  120) 
Cyprus  wars:  7 (I.  i.  151) 

daffest  me:  103  (IV.  ii.  176) 
defeat  (destroy):  103  (IV. 
ii.  160) 

defeat  (disguise) : 26  (I.  iii. 
346) 

defend:  23  (I.  iii.  268) 
delighted:  24  (I.  iii.  291) 
demerits:  9 (I.  ii.  22) 
denotement:  52  (II.  iii.  325) 
designment:  29  (II.  i.  22) 
desir’d:  36  (II.  i.  207) 


162 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello, 


despite:  110  (IV.  iii.  94) 
determinate:  105  (IV.  ii. 
232) 

Diablo:  47  (II.  iii.  163) 
diet:  39  (II.  i.  306) 
dilate:  19  (I.  iii.  153) 
directly:  105  (IV.  ii.  212) 
discourse:  102  (IV.  ii.  153) 
discourse  fustian:  51  (II.  iii. 
284) 

displeasure:  57  (III.  i.  45) 
dispose  (n.):  27  (I.  iii.  403) 
division  . . . battle:  2 (I.i. 
23) 

do  a desperate  turn:  125  (V. 

ii.  205) 

do  . . . discretion:  59  (III. 

iii.  34) 

do  you  justice:  44  (II.  iii. 
90) 

double,  etc.:  9 (I.  ii.  14) 
doubt:  59  (III.  iii.  19) 
driven:  21  (I.  iii.  232) 


ecstasy:  88  (IV.  i.  80) 
elements:  43  (II.  iii.  60) 
embark’d:  7 (I.  i.  150) 
encave:  88  (IV.  i.  82) 
engines:  72  (III.  iii.  356) 
engines  for:  105  (IV.  ii. 
222) 

ensteep’d:  31  (II.  i.  70) 
enwheel:  32  (II.  i.  87) 
erring:  26  (I.  iii.  362) 
error:  121  (V.  ii.  107) 
escape:  20  (I.  iii.  197) 
essential  vesture,  etc.:  31 
(II.  i.  64) 

estimation:  23  (I.  iii.  276) 
execution:  76  (III.  iii.  467) 
exhibition:  22  (I.  iii.  238) 
expert  . . . allowance:  30 
(II.  i.  49) 

exsufflicate : 65  (III.  iii.  182) 
extend:  32  (II.  i.  98) 
extravagant:  6 (Li.  137) 


facile  question:  14  (I.  iii. 
23) 

fall:  67  (III.  iii.  237) 
falls:  94  (IV.  i.  257) 
familiar:  52  (II.  iii.  316) 
fathom:  7 (I.  i.  153) 
favour:  26  (I.  iii.  346) 
fell:  131  (V.  ii.  361) 
figure:  3 (I.  i.  62) 
fills  up  the  cry:  54  (II.  iii. 
373) 

fineless:  65  (III.  iii.  173) 
fitchew:  91  (IV.  i.  148) 
fixed  figure  . . . unmoving 
finger:  98  (IV.  ii.  53,  54) 
flattery:  90  (IV.  i.  131) 
flood-gate:  15  (I.  iii.  56) 
Florentine:  57  (III.  i.  43) 
folly:  122  (V.  ii.  130) 
fopped:  104  (IV.  ii.  197) 
for  (because) : 23  (I.  iii. 

270) 

forced:  17  (I.  iii.  Ill) 
fordoes:  116  (V.  i.  129) 
foregone  conclusion:  74  (III. 
iii.  429) 

forfend:  117  (V.  ii.  32) 
forked  plague:  69  (III.  iii. 
276) 

foul:  34  (II.  i.  140) 
found  him:  38  (II.  i.  254) 
fraught:  75  (III.  iii.  450) 
frize:  33  (II.  i.  126) 
front:  16  (I.  iii.  80) 
fruitful:  53  (II.  iii.  350) 
full:  29  (II.  i.  36) 
function  (character)  : 53  (II. 
iii.  357) 

function  (profession):  97 
(IV.  ii.  26) 

galls:  110  (IV.  iii.  95) 
gastness:  115  (V.  i.  106) 
gender  (n.)  : 25  (I.  iii.  327) 
gender  (vb.) : 99  (IV.  ii. 
61) 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


163 


general  . . . heaven:  119  (V. 
ii.  60) 

generous:  69  (III.  iii.  280) 
gennets:  5 (I.  i.  114) 
germans:  5 (I.  i.  114) 
get:  20  (I.  iii.  191) 
give  . . . cable:  9 (I.  ii.  17) 
go  by  water:  100  (IV.  ii. 
103) 

go  to:  27  (I.  iii.  384) 

God  bless  the  mark:  2 (I.  i. 
33) 

government  (behavior) : 68 
(III.  iii.  256) 

government  (office) : 94  (IV. 
i.  249) 

grace:  117  (V.  ii.  27) 
grange:  5 (I.  i.  106) 
grise:  20  (I.  iii.  200) 
grows  to  waste:  106  (IV.  ii. 
250) 

guardage:  11  (I.  ii.  70) 
guards:  28  (II.  i.  15) 
gull:  123  (V.  ii.  161) 
gutter’d:  31  (II.  i.  69) 
gyve:  35  (II.  i.  171) 

haggard,  jesses,  etc.:  68 
(III.  iii.  260-263) 
happily:  67  (III.  iii.  238) 
happiness:  81  (III.  iv.  107) 
hardness:  22  (I.  iii.  234) 
have  it  . . . have  it  not:  85 
(IV.  i.  17) 

having:  110  (IV.  iii.  94) 
hearted:  26  (I.  iii.  373) 
hearts,  hands:  78  (III.  iv. 
47,  48) 

heat:  10  (I.  ii.  40) 
heave  tbe  gorge:  37  (II.  i. 
237) 

heavy:  112  (V.  i.  42) 
helm:  23  (I.  iii.  274) 
hie  thee:  108  (IV.  iii.  50) 
hinge  nor  loop:  72  (III.  iii. 
366) 

■hint  (cue) : 18  (I.  iii.  142) 


hint  (opportunity) : 19  (I. 
iii.  166) 

his:  87  (IV.  i.  54) 
hobby-horse:  91  (IV.  i.  158) 
honest:  67  (III.  iii.  225) 
honour,  honesty:  126  (V.  ii. 
243) 

horned  man:  87  (IV.  i.  63) 
housewifery,  housewives:  33 
(II.  i.  112) 

humour:  81  (III.  iv.  124) 
Hydra:  52  (II.  iii.  310) 
hypocrisy  . . . devil:  85  (IV. 
i.  6) 

I look  . . . fable:  128  (V.  ii. 

285) 

ice  brook’s  temper,  the:  126 
(V.  ii.  252) 

import:  23  (I.  iii.  285) 
imposition:  51  (II.  iii.  271) 
imputation  . . . circum- 
stances: 74  (III.  iii.  407) 
in:  61  (III.  iii.  74) 
in  choler:  39  (II.  i.  281,  282) 
in  false  gaze:  14  (I.  iii.  19) 
in  good  time:  2 (I.  i.  32) 
in  happy  time:  56  (III.  i. 
32) 

in  . . . terms:  48  (II.  iii.  182) 
in  that  kind:  27  (I.  iii.  395) 
in  the:  35  (II.  i.  166) 
incontinent:  107  (IV.  iii.  12) 
incontinently  24  (I.  iii.  307) 
incorporate:  38  (II.  i.  271) 
Indian:  130  (V.  ii.  346) 
indign:  23  (I.  iii.  275) 
indistinct  regard:  29  (II.  i. 
40) 

indues:  82  (III.  iv.  145) 
ingener:  31  (II.  i.  65) 
ingraft:  46  (II.  iii.  146) 
innovation:  42  (II.  iii.  42) 
intentively:  19  (I.  iii.  155) 
invention:  33  (II.  i.  125) 
it  dislikes  me:  43  (II.  iii.  50) 
iterance:  122  (V.  ii.  148) 


164. 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello , 


Janus:  10  (I.  ii.  33) 
joint-ring:  109  (IV.  iii.  74) 
judge  . . . world:  11  (I.  ii. 
72) 

jump  (agree) : 13  (I.  iii.  5) 
jump  (precisely):  55  (II. 

iii.  395) 

just:  13  (I.  iii.  5) 

just  equinox:  45  (II.  iii.  130) 

keep  a week  away:  83  (III. 

iv.  172) 

keep  time:  88  (IV.  i.  93) 
keep  up:  11  (I.  ii.  59) 
knees:  31  (II.  i.  84) 
know:  116  (V.  i.  117) 
knows  all  qualities,  etc.:  68 
(III.  iii.  259,  260) 

lay  (n.) : 52  (II.  iii.  332) 
learn:  20  (I.  iii.  183) 
leets,  keep  leet:  63  (III.  iii. 
140) 

letter:  2 (I.  i.  36) 
liberal:  35  (II.  i.  164) 
lin’d  their  coats:  3 (I.  i.  53) 
lingered:  105  (IV.  ii.  231) 
lip:  88  (IV.  i.  72) 
list:  32  (II.  i.  104) 
list  (vb.):  37  (II.  i.  220) 
living:  74  (III.  iii.  410) 
lost:  127  (V.  ii.  268) 
loud  reason:  7 (I.  i.  151) 
lown:  44  (II.  iii.  96) 

made  mocks  with:  122  (V. 
ii.  149) 

magnifico:  9 (I  ii.  12) 
main:  28  (II.  i.  3) 
main  article:  13  (I.  iii.  11) 
make  head:  23  (I.  iii.  276) 
mammering:  60  (III.  iii.  70) 
man  (vb.):  127  (V.  ii.  269) 
manage:  49  (II.  iii.  217) 
mandragora:  71  (III.  iii. 
331) 


marble:  75  (III.  iii.  461) 
marry:  55  (III.  i.  10) 
marshal:  38  (II.  i.  270) 
master:  36  (II.  i.  212) 
Mauritania:  105  (IV.  ii. 
229) 

mazzard:  47  (II.  iii.  157) 
mere  perdition:  40  (II.  ii. 
3) 

mineral:  39  (II.  i.  309) 
minion:  112  (V.  i.  33) 
minister:  38  (II.  i.  279) 
mock  . . . feeds  on:  64  (III. 
iii.  166,  167) 

modern:  17  (I.  iii.  109) 
moe:  108  (IV.  iii.  58) 
molestation:  29  (II.  i.  16) 
mood:  51  (II.  iii.  276) 
moraler:  52  (II.  iii.  303) 
more  arrivance:  30  (II.  i. 
42) 

mortal:  31  (II.  i.  72) 
mortise,  hold  the:  28  (II.  i. 

9) 

moth:  22  (I.  iii.  258) 
motion  (self-control?):  12 
(I.  ii.  75) 

motion  (action  ?) : 17  (I.  iii. 
95) 

motions  (impulses) : 25  (I. 
iii.  335) 

mountebanks:  15  (I.  iii.  61) 
mummy:  79  (III.  iv.  75) 
mutualities:  38  (II.  i.  269) 
mystery:  97  (IV.  ii.  29) 

naked:  127  (V.  ii.  257) 
napkin:  69  (III.  iii.  287) 
nephews:  5 (I.  i.  112) 
next:  21  (I.  iii.  205) 
nice:  58  (III.  iii.  15) 
night-gown:  107  (IV.  iii.  34) 
no  . . . wish:  84  (III.  iv.  193) 
nonsuits:  1 (I.  i.  16) 
not  almost:  60  (III.  iii.  66) 
notorious:  102  (IV.  ii.  140) 


The  Moor  of  V enice 


165 


observance : 82  (III.  iv. 

148) 

odd-even:  6 (I.  i.  124) 
odds:  48  (II.  iii.  187) 
of  my  counsel:  62  (III.  iii. 
Ill) 

off-capp’d:  1 (I.  i.  10) 
offends:  48  (II.  iii.  201) 
offices:  41  (II.  ii.  9) 
on  . . . safety:  49  (II.  iii. 
218) 

opinion  . . . effects:  21  (I. 
iii.  225) 

opinion  (good  name) : 48 
(II.  iii.  197) 
order:  119  (V.  ii.  72) 
other:  97  (IV.  ii.  12) 
out  of  warrant:  12  (I.  ii.  79) 
owe:  3 (I.  i.  66) 

pageant:  13  (I.  iii.  18) 
painted  passion:  95  (IV.  i. 
268) 

paragons:  30  (II.  i.  62) 
parallel:  53  (II.  iii.  358) 
parcels,  by:  19  (I.  iii.  154) 
parley:  42  (II.  iii.  23) 
part:  16  (I.  iii.  74) 
partially  affin’d:  49  (II.  iii. 
220) 

passage:  112  (V.  i.  37) 
patent:  92  (IV.  i.  208) 
patient  list:  88  (IV.  i.  76) 
peculiar  (own):  88  (IV.  i. 
70) 

peculiar  (private):  3 (I.  i. 
60) 

perdurable:  25  (I.  iii.  343) 
period:  130  (V.  ii.  356) 
perplex’d:  130  (V.  ii.  345) 
pick  bad  from  bad:  110 
(IV.  iii.  108) 
pictures:  33  (II.  i.  109) 
pierced:  21  (I.  iii.  219) 
pioners:  71  (III.  iii.  347) 
platform:  45  (II.  iii.  126) 
pliant:  19  (I.  iii.  151) 


plume  up:  27  (I.  iii.  399) 
poise:  61  (III.  iii.  82) 
pole:  28  (II.  i.  15) 

Pontic:  75  (III.  iii.  454) 
portance:  18  (I.  iii.  139) 
position:  67  (III.  iii.  234) 
possession:  127  (V.  ii.  277) 
potent  in  potting:  44  (II. 
iii.  80) 

pottle-deep:  43  (II.  iii.  57) 
practising  upon:  40  (II.  i. 

322) 

praise:  113  (V.  i.  66) 
prefer:  39  (II.  i.  288) 
pregnant:  37  (II.  i.  241) 
prer^gativ’d:  68  (III.  iii 
274) 

presently:  56  (III.  i.  38) 
prime:  73  (III.  iii.  404) 
probal:  53  (II.  iii.  347) 
probation:  72  (III.  iii.  366) 
produc’d:  7 (I.  i.  147) 
profit:  73  (III.  iii.  380) 
Promethean  heat:  117  (V„ 
ii.  12) 

proper  (fine) : 27  (I.  iii. 

398) 

proper  (own):  16  (I.  iii.  69) 
property:  8 (I.  i.  173) 
propose:  2 (I.  i.  25) 
prov’d:  107  (IV.  iii.  27) 
puddled:  82  (III.  iv.  142) 
put  . . . triumph:  40  (II.  iL 
4) 

put  on  (challenge) : 34  (II. 

i.  146) 

put  on:  53  (II.  iii.  360) 
put  up:  104  (IV.  ii.  181) 

qualification:  39  (II.  i.  284) 
qualified:  42  (II.  iii.  41) 
quality:  22  (I.  iii.  253) 
quat:  111  (V.  i.  11) 
question:  17  (I.  iii.  113) 
quicken:  69  (III.  iii.  277) 
quicken  . . . blowing:  99  (IV, 

ii.  66) 


166 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


quillets:  56  (III.  i.  25) 
quirks:  30  (II.  i.  63) 


rank  garb:  40  (II.  i.  318) 
recognizance:  125  (V.  ii. 

212) 

recoiling  to:  67  (III.  iii. 

236) 

recommends:  14  (I.  iii.  41) 
recover’d:  126  (Y.  ii.  238) 
reference:  22  (I.  iii.  238) 
relume:  117  (V.  ii.  13) 
remorse:  76  (III.  iii.  469) 
repeals:  54  (II.  iii.  366) 
reprobation:  125  (V.  ii.  207) 
resolv’d:  65  (III.  iii.  180) 
Roman:  90  (IV.  i.  119) 
rouse:  43  (II.  iii.  67) 
rout:  49  (II.  iii.  212) 


Sagittary:  7 (I.  i.  159) 
said:  35  (II.  i.  169) 
saints  . . . injuries:  33  (II. 
i.  Ill) 

salt:  37  (II.  i.  246) 
sans:  15  (I.  iii.  64) 

’save:  83  (III.  iv.  168) 
’Sblood:  1 (I.  i.  4) 
scattering:  64  (III.  iii.  151) 
scion:  25  (I.  iii.  337) 
scored  me:  90  (IV.  i.  128) 
sea-mark:  127  (V.  ii.  267) 
sect:  25  (I.  iii.  337) 
secure  (adj.):  88  (IV.  i.  72) 
secure  (vb.):  13  (I.  iii.  10) 
seel:  23  (I.  iii.  271) 
segregation:  28  (II.  i.  10) 
seize  upon:  131  (V.  ii.  365) 
self-bounty:  66  (III.  iii.  200) 
sense  (quick) : 111  (V.  i.  11) 
sense  (sensations):  110  (IV. 
iii.  97) 

sense,  fearful  (apprehen- 
sion): 13  (I,  iii.  12) 
sense,  gross  in  (reason) : 11 
(I.  ii.  72) 


sense,  of  (judgment):  11  (I. 
ii.  64) 

sense  of  all,  from  the  (re- 
gard): 6 (I.  i.  132) 
sequent:  10  (I.  ii.  41) 
sequester:  78  (III.  iv.  41) 
serpent’s  curse:  97  (IV.  ii. 
15) 

set  . . . pegs:  36  (II.  i.  203) 
shore  (vb.) : 124  (V.  ii.  204) 
shrewd  doubt:  74  (III.  iii. 
430) 

shrift:  59  (III.  iii.  24) 
shut  ...  in:  81  (III.  iv.  120) 
sibyl:  79  (III.  iv.  71) 
siege:  9 (I.  ii.  22) 
signiory:  9 (I.  ii.  18) 
sir:  35  (II.  i.  176) 
sith:  73  (III.  iii.  381) 
skillet:  23  (I.  iii.  274) 
slipper:  37  (II.  i.  247) 
slubber:  21  (I.  iii.  227) 
snorting:  4 (I.  i.  90) 
soft:  120  (V.  ii.  103) 
soft  . . . conversation:  68 
(III.  iii.  264) 
solicit:  117  (V.  ii.  28) 
something:  48  (II.  iii.  201) 
sorry  rheum:  78  (III.  iv.  52) 
Spartan:  131  (V.  ii.  360) 
speak  i’  the  nose:  55  (III. 

i.  4) 

speak  parrot:  51  (II.  iii. 
283) 

speculative  . . . instruments: 

23  (I.  iii.  272) 
speed:  89  (IV.  i.  109) 
splinter:  52  (II.  iii.  332) 
stand  in  act:  7 (I.  i.  152) 
start:  5 (I.  i.  101) 
stay  the  meat:  103  (IV.  ii. 
170) 

stead:  25  (I.  iii.  344) 
stick  . . . misuse:  101  (IV* 

ii.  107,  108) 
still:  18  (I.  iii.  129) 
stirring:  56  (III.  i.  27) 


The  Moor  of  Venice 


167 


stomach:  119  (V.  ii.  75) 
stone:  119  (V.  ii.  63) 
stones:  126  (V.  ii.  232) 
stood  . . . action:  16  (I.  iii. 
70) 

stop:  127  (V.  ii.  263) 
stops:  63  (III.  iii.  120) 
storm  of  fortunes,  etc.:  22 
(I.  iii.  251) 
stoup:  42  (II.  iii.  30) 
strain  his  entertainment:  68 
(III.  iii.  250) 

strangeness:  58  (III.  iii.  12) 
stuff:  8 (I.  ii.  2) 
success:  66  (III.  iii.  222) 
such  another  (another  such)  : 

122  (V.  ii.  142) 
such  another  (such  a) : 91 
(IV.  i.  148) 

sudden  respect:  104  (IV.  ii. 
192) 

sufferance:  29  (II.  i.  23) 
suggest:  53  (II.  iii.  361) 
supplied:  86  (IV.  i.  28) 
swag-bellied:  44  (II.  iii.  81) 

tainting:  38  (II.  i.  277) 
take  . . . front:  57  (III.  i. 

52) 

taken  off:  129  (V.  ii.  330) 
talk:  107  (IV.  iii.  25) 
teem  with:  94  (IV.  i.  256) 
term:  2 (I.  i.  39) 
that  (if):  103  (IV.  ii.  154) 
thin  habits:  17  (I.  iii.  108) 
thing  I am,  the:  33  (II.  i. 
123) 

though:  64  (III.  iii.  145) 
to  fortune’s  alms:  81  (III. 
iv.  121) 

to  madness:  40  (II.  i.  323) 
to  the  vantage:  109  (IV.  iii. 
86,  87) 

toged  consuls:  2 (I.  i.  25) 
torches:  7 (I.  i.  160,  S.  d.) 
toy:  82  (III.  iv.  155) 
toys:  23  (I.  iii.  270) 


trash  . . . trace:  40  (II.  i. 
315) 

traverse:  27  (I.  iii.  378) 
trick:  102  (IV.  ii.  129) 
tricks  of  custom:  63  (III. 
iii.  122) 

true  taste:  39  (II.  i.  285) 
turn  . . . complexion:  99  (IV. 

ii.  61) 

twiggen  bottle:  46  (II.  iii. 
153) 

unbonneted,  etc.:  9 (I.  ii. 

23) 

unbookish:  89  (IV.  i.  102) 
undertaker:  93  (IV.  i.  223) 
undo’t  . . . done:  109  (IV. 

iii.  72,  73) 

unfold:  102  (IV.  ii.  141) 
unhandsome  warrior:  82 
(III.  iv.  150) 

unhatch’d  practice:  82  (III. 

iv.  140) 

unhoused:  9 (I.  ii.  26) 
unlace:  48  (II.  iii.  196) 
unless:  2 (I.  i.  24) 
unproper:  88  (IV.  i.  69) 
unprovide:  93  (IV.  i.  217) 
unwholesome:  90  (IV.  i.  122) 
use  (n.):  96  (IV.  i.  285) 
uses  (n.):  110  (IV.  iii.  107) 
usurped:  26  (I.  iii.  346) 

vanity:  103  (IV.  ii.  164) 
Veronesa:  29  (II.  i.  26) 
vicious:  64  (III.  iii.  145) 
visages:  3 (I.  i.  50) 
voice  potential,  etc.:  9 (I.  ii. 
13) 

voluble:  37  (II.  i.  243) 
votarist:  104  (IV.  ii.  190) 
vouch  (assert) : 17  (I.  iii. 
103) 

vouch  (testimony):  34  (II. 
i.  147) 

wanting:  71  (III.  iii.  343) 


168 


The  Tragedy  of  Othello 


wary  distance:  43  (II.  iii. 
59) 

wasted:  16  (I.  iii.  84) 
watch  . . . double  set:  46 
(II.  iii.  136) 

watch  him  tame:  59  (III. 
iii.  23) 

watching:  69  (III.  iii.  285) 
waterish:  58  (III.  iii.  15) 
what  . . . won:  16  (I.  iii.  91- 
94) 

what  he  might  be,  etc.:  96 
(IY.  i.  282,  283) 
what  in  the  contrary?:  103 
(IV.  ii.  175) 

what’s  . . . time:  7 (I.  i.  162) 
wheeling:  6 (I.  i.  137) 
whipster:  126  (V.  ii.  242) 


white:  33  (II.  i.  133) 
wit:  90  (IY.  i.  121) 
withal:  17  (I.  iii.  93) 
within  door:  102  (IV.  ii. 
144) 

woman’d:  84  (III.  iv.  194) 
work  ta’en  out:  69  (III.  iii. 
296) 

wretch:  61  (III.  iii.  90) 
wrought:  130  (V.  ii.  344) 

yawn  at  alteration:  120  (V. 
ii.  100) 

yerk’d:  8 (I.  ii.  5) 

young  affects:  23  (I.  iii.  265) 

your  way:  92  (IV.  i.  195) 

’Zounds:  4 (I.  i.  86) 


